Dark Night of the Soul 2
by Net Girl
Summary: Sauron wasn't too pleased with how things turned out in his encounter with the Scooby Gang. The future of the world – past and present - is in danger. Can the Scoobs save it and themselves?
1. A Friend In Need

Rating: PG-13 - Violence, mild language.   
  
Summary: Sauron wasn't too pleased with how things turned out in his encounter with the Scooby Gang. The future of the world is in danger. Can the Scoobs save it and themselves?  
  
Spoilers: All of season three Buffy; not a whole lot for LOTR.  
  
Disclaimer: All _Buffy_ characters belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy Productions. _Lord of the Rings_ characters and universe belong to Mr. J.R.R. Tolkien. We are but lowly fan fiction writers who enjoy spinning a good yarn. We are NOT making any money off this, nor are we trying to infringe on anyone's copyright. So don't sue us.   
  
Authors' Notes: This story takes place just before season four in a seriously AU Buffy-verse. In the LOTR universe, it's during the Fellowship and the War of the Ring. Please send any and all feedback to: NetGrlWill@aol.com & NovusSibyl@aol.com. Flames are read, laughed at then deleted with extreme prejudice.   
  
Dark Night of the Soul 2  
By Net Girl & Sibyl  
  
Chapter 1 - "A Friend In Need ... "  
  
"Oh no."  
  
Buffy Summers stared in stunned horror as half a dozen pointy-eared, puke green-gray skinned and generally ugly Orcs filed out of the glowing time rip that had appeared in her front yard. The Orcs made no mistake about where they intended to go. They headed straight for the Summers' front door. A moment later, Buffy gasped and whirled away from the window when she heard her front door being kicked in.   
  
-  
  
"Buffy!"  
  
Willow Rosenberg, arms stretched out in front of her, sat up in bed and opened her eyes. Breathing heavily, she glanced around her darkened bedroom. Slowly, her arms dropped down as she calmed herself. The only sound in the room was the squeaking of Amy the Rat's exercise wheel. Willow's outburst had startled the poor witch-turned-rodent.   
  
"A dream ... a dream ..." Willow murmured as her hands clutched at her chest. Beads of sweat lazily slid down the sides of her face. Throwing the blankets back, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, closed her eyes and took measured breaths. "A dream ... that's all."  
  
The nightmare - a more proper term for it - had been going on for the last week. The lidless Eye that was Sauron dominated it. Always, he was after Buffy. For what reason, Willow didn't know. She couldn't do anything to stop him or to save Buffy from being taken by him. She wasn't powerful enough.   
  
Willow wondered in passing how she'd managed to break free of him two months before. Was it her desire to be free? Was it some strange magick or perhaps something deeper? Whenever she thought back to that day, she felt as though a piece of her memory was missing. Something happened - she just knew it - but try as she did, she could never find the memory. Was it related to Sauron? Why did it bother her so?  
  
Amy the Rat continued to squeak on her wheel. Suddenly, she stopped. Her rat nose twitched rapidly as she sensed something near. A few seconds later, she squeaked excitedly and began to circle her cage as though she was possessed. Or in so much fear she wanted out.  
  
Willow's eyes closed as she let herself relax. [It was only a dream. He's not here. He's far in the past where he belongs.] Her muscles tightened as a familiar Darkness invaded her mind and heart. The lure of it tempted the young Wicca.   
  
Soft whispers surrounded her, a voice murmured things in a language she'd heard before yet did not quite understand. The chill stabbed deeper and deeper into her body, it wouldn't let go. And the whispering voice became louder.  
  
"Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatulûk agh burzum-ishi krimpatul."  
  
Her eyes flicked open and she stood up with a jolt. The voice faded away. It was more than a dream. Sauron, inadvertently, had warned her of doom to come. Something was going to happen - very soon. As fast as she possibly could, she changed out of her pajamas and into street clothes then headed for Xander Harris's house. They had to get together with Buffy.   
  
Now.  
  
-  
  
Buffy's heart raced as she headed to her bedroom door. Once she cracked it open, she could hear the voices of the Orcs downstairs, talking. At intervals, the sound of something being knocked over mixed with the banter.  
  
She glanced towards her mother's bedroom door and prayed Joyce wouldn't wake up. That was all she needed, to explain what these creatures were and why they were in the house, tearing things apart. She'd never bothered to tell her mother about Middle-earth. Giles's abrupt departure from Sunnydale was easily explained away - no library to tend, no longer officially Buffy's Watcher - so why give the woman more stress?  
  
Her attention shifted back to her intruders when something in the living room - probably a vase - shattered, startling the young Slayer. Closing her door a little, she listened hard, trying to decipher what the Orcs downstairs said.  
  
"Find the girl," one of the voices ordered, obviously annoyed that somebody made noise. "The Master won't take another failure. This time, we bring her back or it's the Big Fire for us."  
  
"She isn't here," replied another. A moment later, something else clattered to the floor.  
  
"Search her bed chamber, you ignorant worm!" snarled the first. "Find her and kill anyone else you find. The Dark Lord wants his mysteries."  
  
"Not here," a third voice put in.  
  
Buffy blanched. [Kill anyone else?] Her gaze flicked back to her mother's still closed bedroom door. [Please, Mom, please don't wake up.] She swallowed hard. The situation had been taken to another level now; a level that Buffy couldn't handle. The creaking of the stairs caught her attention once more and she ducked back into her room when she saw the top of an Orc head.  
  
"God," she softly whispered. Her heart rate doubled and the adrenaline coursed at high speed through her veins. The impending battle excited her on a subconscious level and terrified her at the same time. She wanted them to come. Still, something about this whole scenario felt oddly familiar. Why, though?  
  
"This way," one of the Orcs hissed. They were upstairs now, Buffy could tell, and headed for her room. "Don't kill the girl - the Master needs her alive."  
  
Buffy's only advantage at the moment was the element of surprise. Sliding away from her door, she positioned herself so the door would hide her when the Orcs entered. Pressing her back against the wall, she waited. The pounding in her chest filled her ears now, she almost wondered if they couldn't hear it themselves.  
  
Slowly, the door began to creak open.  
  
[Wait ... wait ... wait for it,] she thought as the dim outlines of two Orcs cast themselves upon her floor.  
  
"I told you, maggot, she's not here," said one. The voice was just on the other side of the door. Only a slim piece of wood separated Buffy from her unwelcome visitors. Her eyes closed as she tried to keep her breathing quiet and steady.  
  
"Quiet, fool," hiss the first Orc. A pause and a sound as though the Orc was sniffing followed. "She is here."  
  
Buffy decided if she wanted to keep her element of surprise, she had to move now. She kicked her door forward with every ounce of strength she could muster. The wood splintered and a pained yowl let her know she'd done some damage to at least one of the Orcs. As another Orc ripped what was left of the door away from its hinges, Buffy snatched up a shard of wood.  
  
The battle had begun.  
  
"Ah! You'll regret that, woman," growled the second Orc. He reached for her but Buffy planted a vicious side kick into him. She heard ribs crack as her foot made contact with the Orc's chest and sent him flying backwards across her room. He slammed hard into the wall and slumped on the floor, out cold. For now, at least.  
  
Her eyes flicked down to the Orc she'd clocked with the door. He was doubled over, his hands cradling his profusely bleeding nose and face.   
  
"Hey, pal, don't bleed on my floor." Buffy delivered a foot to the Orc's face, whipping his head back with such a force he found himself staring up at the ceiling, a dazed expression on his ugly face. Gripping the wooden shard in both hands, she brought it down into the center of the Orc's chest.  
  
Before she could pull her makeshift stake out of the Orc, another came charging at her from down the hallway. She rolled out of the way and her head whipped around in time to see the Orc hit her bed with full force then slide up it until he banged his skull on her headboard. She grimaced.  
  
"That's going to leave a mark, I bet," she mumbled then shook her head. Picking up another piece of wood, she scrambled out of her room and down the hall. At the top of her stairs, though, she came to an abrupt halt. "Shit." Three more Orcs were headed up the stairs.  
  
"Grab her, you worms!" exclaimed the one whom Buffy assumed was the leader as he pointed to her. The other two followed the order without question.  
  
"I'm just Popular Girl in any time period, aren't I?" she muttered as she headed away from the top of the stairs. She passed her mother's door, thankful that the noise hadn't roused Joyce from her sleep. She came to a stop again when the third Orc emerged from her room, rubbing the top of his head. Quickly, Buffy ducked into the bathroom.  
  
"Now that was a really stupid move, Summers," she said as she looked around. "Right into a dead end."   
  
While one Orc stumbled out of Buffy's room, two more arrived at the top of the stairs.   
  
"Where is she?" demanded one of the newcomers to the third who rubbed his head. Before the other could answer, the sound of the shower being turned on caught their attention. "In there!" The three Orcs rushed for the bathroom.  
  
The first one in the door took a stake to the chest from Buffy. "It's not nice to come into the bathroom when a lady's trying to take a shower!" she told him. "Brute!" A single punch to the face sent the staked Orc stumbling backwards into the others. They glanced at the dead Orc then at each other, a fear of the Slayer in both creatures' eyes.  
  
Buffy flashed them a grin when both Orcs faced her. "Come and get me, boys," she teased, crooking a finger. As one of the Orcs advanced, Buffy seized him by the arm, pinned it behind his back then smashed his face into the bathroom mirror. Shards of bloodied glass fell into the sink and onto the floor. "Ooo, seven years bad luck!"  
  
The Orc made some sort of groaning noise. It's free hand brushed over its face and picked at the mirror pieces embedded into his skin.  
  
The Slayer picked up one of the jagged glass pieces and drove it into the jugular of the wounded Orc. Disgusting goo spurted out of the wound and all over the wall and sink when Buffy withdrew it from the Orc.   
  
"More like seven seconds in your case, punk." She shoved the Orc out of the bathroom but the one still standing sidestepped this time.  
  
His eyes dropped down to his two dead comrades in the upstairs hallway. Slowly, he lifted his head and growled at the Slayer who stood in the bathroom, staring at him with a smirk on her face. "You'll bleed for this, Slayer," he hissed at her.   
  
Buffy glanced over her shoulder. The bathtub was thinly filled with water, but it was enough to do what she wanted it to. Her attention went back to the advancing Orc. His hands reached out for her, a murderous gleam in his eyes. Suddenly, she held up her hands, palms out, to him.  
  
"Wait!" she exclaimed. To her surprise, he stopped, and probably to his surprise as well. She snatched up her hair dryer, aimed it at him and narrowed her eyes on the Orc. "Stay back! This is a deadly weapon! Only my kind knows how to wield it and control its powers!" She pressed the button and a stream of hot air spewed out of the end.  
  
The Orc was stunned, but only for a moment. When he realized it was only warm air, and not some kind of killing beam or force, he snarled at her and advanced again. Buffy sidestepped at the last moment, drove her elbow into the middle of the Orc's back, knocked him off balance and sent him tumbling into the tub. She turned on her heel and looked down her nose at the Orc.  
  
He brought up his hands, a terrified expression on his face that quickly morphed into relief. "It's just water!" he cried out. He looked up to Buffy, who still had the running hair dryer in her hand. "Stupid girl! It's just water!"  
  
A wicked grin tugged at Buffy's mouth. "That's what you think." With that, she dropped the hair dryer into the bathtub. The Orc squealed, his body shaking violently as the electricity conducted itself throughout the water and into him. Sparks flickered from the water then the wall socket and Buffy took a few steps backwards. Soon, the hair dryer sputtered out and it died ... along with the Orc.  
  
Buffy stared at the smoking Orc in the bathtub and she shook her head. "You know, I've always heard that meeting me is an electrifying experience." [Good one!] she thought, giving herself a mental high five. The back patting over her clever quip was cut short by Joyce's voice.  
  
"BUFFY!"  
  
"Mom!" Buffy flew out of the bathroom, turned to head for her mother's room but stopped cold when she saw the last of the Orcs. He laughed as he placed a long blade to Joyce's throat. Buffy looked from the glimmering blade to her mother - Joyce was, understandably, frightened, but even more confused at what was going on. "Mom ... "  
  
The Orc laughed again. "Not so brave now, are we, girl?" The blade lowered just a bit from Joyce's neck, the point dragging lightly across the exposed skin near the collarbone. "Mother is a weakness, isn't she? Old Grishgork figured that out, I did, after all the others failed."  
  
[What the hell's he blathering about?] Buffy wondered. But she didn't dwell on it long. Her thoughts turned to ways of saving her mother. The distance between them was minimal but it was enough for the Orc to slash Joyce's throat before Buffy could get there. She had no weapons at all, though a crossbow probably wouldn't have been of any use either. [Think, Buffy. You've survived so many things, you can't think of a way to get out of this?]  
  
"Buffy ..." Joyce Summers' eyes brimmed with tears. "What ... what do they want?" She didn't know how she had the presence of mind to ask such a question. She gasped when the Orc pulled her closer, the blade piercing the tender flesh and a thin red line of blood trickled down her chest.  
  
"Daughter knows what we want," the Orc answered. He shifted his gaze from Joyce to Buffy, smirking triumphantly now. "I'll cut her if you don't do what I say. Let her go if you do."  
  
"Bullshit," snapped Buffy, her eyes burning into the Orc. She couldn't stop glancing at the blood on her mother's skin. [I'm going to make him sorry he ever found her. I'll tear his limbs off, cut him into a thousand pieces...] "I heard you guys talking - kill everyone else you discover. Your threat is empty, pal."  
  
The Orc's head cocked to one side, but his smarmy smirk was still in place. He chuckled softly. "Either way, girl, you're coming with us. Our Master wants you."  
  
"Your master too chicken to come after me himself?" asked Buffy, an eyebrow cocking. She pretended to have a revelation, and added, "Oh wait, I forgot, he doesn't even have a friggin' body so he CAN'T come after me!"  
  
The Orc smiled wider, baring his gnarled teeth at her. "You have no choice - you come."  
  
"You're not taking my daughter anywhere!" Joyce jammed her elbow into the ribs of the Orc, his grip on her loosened but she didn't stop there. She stomped down hard on the Orc's left foot, whirled around and punched the creature in the face. The knife fell out of his hand as he smacked up against the wall. Quickly, Joyce picked up the knife and held it on the Orc as Buffy ran up behind her. "You're not so bad without this, are you?"  
  
Buffy blinked as she looked at the Orc, who held his bleeding nose, then to her mother. Joyce had an expression on her face Buffy rarely saw - she could've been a Slayer herself!   
  
"Mom?" she calmly said, reaching out a hand. "Give me the knife and let me take care of it from here. Okay?"  
  
Joyce let go of the knife as Buffy wrapped her fingers around it then Joyce's hand brushed over the minor wound the Orc had inflicted upon her. She glanced from Buffy to the Orc.   
  
"What ... what are they doing here?" she asked, her voice slightly distant. She seemed astonished she'd managed to save herself, but the thought of Buffy being taken from her - it was too much to bear.  
  
Before Buffy could lie her way out of it, a loud whinny of a horse accompanied by a chilling shriek came from somewhere outside. Joyce and Buffy whirled, eyes wide and the exact same expression of frightened surprise on each woman's face.  
  
"What was that?" Joyce's hushed voice inquired. She trembled gently. She'd become privy to a lot of things because of Buffy's Slayer duty, but never had she heard anything such as that. She swallowed hard and slid her gaze over to Buffy.  
  
Buffy gripped the handle of the Orc's blade so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her heart pounded in her chest. [What the hell was that?] Even she didn't know. Of course, if it was something sent by Sauron, it couldn't be good. "I don't know," she whispered in reply.  
  
The Orc, spotting his chance to escape, shoved Buffy into Joyce before taking off down the stairs. Buffy narrowly avoided impaling her mother with the knife as she collided with Joyce. The Orc's maniacal laughter drifted up the stairs and gradually died away.  
  
"Mom, are you okay?" Buffy asked as Joyce leaned against the wall for support. She looked her mother over, a twinge of anger flaring up when she spotted that cut near Joyce's collarbone. "Mom?"  
  
Joyce nodded then waved a hand at the stairs. "I'm fine, Buffy. Go," she replied, that motherly tone in her voice. "Stop him before he hurts somebody else."  
  
"Mom -" Buffy began. She wanted to get even with that Orc for what he'd done, but what about that ... whatever that noise was outside? It wasn't her own safety she feared for, but Joyce's. If that thing killed her, it would surely come and kill her mother.  
  
"Go!" Joyce gave her a push. She met her daughter's gaze; her eyes filled with worry but also a resolve. "You have to protect others from him. I'll be fine by myself."  
  
Buffy pressed her lips together, her chest tightened as she thought for a moment then she stepped back from Joyce. [I have to. She'll be fine. It's me they wanted, anyway. And it's me they're going to get.] With a nod, Buffy thundered down the stairs to finish what the Orcs had started.   
  
"If Sauron wants to party, we'll party. He'll be sorry he ever decided to come to the future," she murmured as she reached the bottom of the steps. She flew out of the doorless front door, hopped off the porch and skidded to a halt. "Whoa ... " she said, her eyes affixed to what was before her.  
  
The surviving Orc cackled as he leapt through the time rip and vanished. But that wasn't why Buffy stopped. Before her, mounted on a monstrous black horse, was a rider shrouded completely in black robes. The hood was so long it hung over his face so Buffy couldn't see him. The steed he rode upon, its legs ... they almost appeared to glimmer in the light of the street lamps. It took her a minute to realize that the glimmering substance was blood.  
  
She took two steps back, her eyes traveled up the length of the rider and stopped at his hooded head. "Who the hell are you?" she asked. The rider reined the horse around, though his attention never left the blonde below him. "Hey, buddy, I asked you a question." Still no comment from the rider. "Don't you know there's a law about having animals that size within the city limits? You're messing up my lawn, too."  
  
Slowly, a hand raised and reached out towards her and a gloved finger pointed. "Slayer," the rider hissed in a tone that didn't sound very human to Buffy. The voice made her blood run cold, so cold she shivered despite herself. It was like the screams of millions of people in horrible agony.  
  
"Yeah, Slayer. That's me, pal," she said when she found her own voice. She licked her lips and her sweaty hand gripped the knife handle tight.  
  
"Slayer ... come," the rider continued as he crooked a finger and beckoned her towards him.   
  
For the briefest of moments, Buffy actually considered doing as the rider commanded. She blinked twice then shook her head, and the odd feeling lifted from her. A hand absently brushed over the pendant Galadriel had given her. "I've got a better idea," she replied, narrowing her eyes at the figure. "You ... die."  
  
Expertly, she threw the knife at the rider, aiming for his heart. The blade penetrated his flesh and made a muted 'thunk'ing sound upon impact. The horse whinnied again and the rider screeched loudly, trying to control his steed while grabbing at the blade.  
  
Buffy put her hands on her hips and shook her head. "This Sauron isn't as bad assed as everyone's letting on." She scoffed.  
  
The rider hissed lowly as he pulled the knife from his chest, tossed the blade - or what was left of it - onto the ground before her. Buffy stared at the knife, stunned at what she saw. It was as though the metal had been melted off. The rider wasn't hurt at all. Probably more annoyed than anything.   
  
She lifted her head again. The Slayer barely had time to scream before the black rider seized her by the arm then yanked her with little effort onto the horse. The animal whinnied loudly and the screech of the rider combined with it in the warm night air.  
  
-  
  
Willow skidded to a halt and Xander, who'd been struggling to keep her pace, bumped into her. She looked around - that feeling inside of her was more intense than ever now. She knew he was near in some capacity - Sauron. Memories of him flooded her mind, the power that so intoxicated her while she was bearer of a lesser ring. Her heart sank as another screech broke the quiet of the small town.  
  
Xander, though, gasped in a sudden breath. "Will ... what the hell was that?" he asked in a low voice. "And before you answer ... do I really want to know?" Any fear he had disappeared when Buffy screamed.   
  
Willow closed her eyes and her head bowed. "No, please," she softly murmured. Her hands balled into fists at her sides. [This can't be happening, it can't be real. It can't be.] But the dream had come true - Sauron had found a way into the future. And he had come for Buffy.  
  
"Come on, Will! Move it!" Xander ordered as he clamped a hand on her arm then gave her a push to get her to going. "Let's go! We have to help her!"  
  
Willow had no hope of helping Buffy. She already knew they were too late. Still, she followed after Xander.   
  
"Get you hands off of me!" Buffy yelled as she struggled under the arm of the rider. To her confusion, she was powerless against him. Every punch she delivered had no effect on him. Whatever this thing was, it was more than a match for a Slayer.  
  
Xander and Willow rounded the corner and came to an abrupt halt in Buffy's front yard. The rider was headed for the time rip with Buffy clutched under one arm. Her legs wildly kicked and her fingers dug into the shoulder of the hooded man. He paid no mind to her futile attempts to free herself.  
  
"Buffy!" Xander shouted. "Come on, Willow!" He grabbed her wrist and pulled her along - towards the open rip. "Buffy! We're going to help you!"  
  
Buffy's head turned just in time for her to see Xander, dragging Willow with him, coming after her. She reached out desperately for her friends. "Xander! Willow! Help me!" And in the next instant, she disappeared into the time rip with the rider. "Xander!!!"  
  
Willow stopped just short of the rip and Xander whirled around. "What are you doing?" he demanded. He gestured towards the rip. "They just took Buffy! We have to go and get her." He noticed the petrified look on Willow's face. "Willow ... what's the matter with you?"  
  
"We can't go back there ... I can't." She shook her head. Sauron almost had her in his power the last time. She didn't want to chance it. There was a reason she kept dreaming about him over the last two months. More than likely, it wasn't because he was a caring soul. "Xander ... "  
  
Xander's eyes narrowed on her for a moment. "I can't believe this," he replied. He glanced back at the rip then looked to Willow. "Fine. Stay here. I'm going to get her back." With that said, he jumped into the time rip and vanished.  
  
Willow remained as though she was rooted to the space in front of the opening. She couldn't just jump in this time, not like she had before. She knew what lay on the other side. That evil - her arms wrapped around herself as she became cold. Shivering, she continued to stare at the time rip.  
  
[I can't go. Buffy, I'm sorry. You know I can't. I'm so sorry.]  
  
"Willow ... " a voice, so familiar, faintly whispered. It seemed to originate from within the rip. Soft-spoken words in the Black Tongue followed. Then the rip began to flicker and become unable to sustain itself. "Come ..."  
  
Willow closed her eyes. She gasped sharply when the lidless Eye flashed in her mind. Surprised, and frightened, her eyes flew open. The whispering faded away but the icy coldness remained with her. Sauron, even in the past, had a hold on her. Perhaps not as significant as before though she still felt his presence - she always had, even upon waking in Buffy's bedroom two months ago.  
  
Against her better judgment, she stepped into the shimmering portal and embarked on another journey to the past. As soon as she'd entered it and disappeared, the rip in Sunnydale sealed itself. No evidence was left behind to indicate that anything out of the ordinary had happened there.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The trip through the portal to the past wasn't anything like Willow remembered it being the first time, probably because she didn't remember the trip the first time. She was so concerned with Buffy not being stuck wherever the portal led alone she paid no mind to the actual getting there. A multi-colored tube swirled around her, sparking and glowing at various points in the journey. Ahead of her, she could make out the faint sound of Xander's voice - he was yelling something. She couldn't hear it clearly.  
  
Soon, a bright flash blinded Willow temporarily, and like her arrival in the Shire, she landed hard on her stomach on the ground. Blinking a few times, she groaned then pushed herself up onto her hands then looked around. A few feet away, Xander leaned against the wall of a building, one hand on his head tending a minor cut he'd received.   
  
"Are you okay?" she asked as she managed to sit up. She rubbed a hand over her stomach, glanced around and wrinkled her nose. "Where are we?" Her gaze shifted back over to Xander. He didn't reply. He didn't even look at her. "Xander. Hello? I'm asking a question. Do you have any idea where we are?"  
  
Xander pulled his hand back away from his head, gazed at his bloodied fingers for a few moments then shook his head. "No, I don't," he mumbled. "All I do know is ... wherever we are, Buffy and the mounted freak who kidnapped her aren't here."  
  
Willow stood up, took a moment to make sure she was properly balanced and made her way over to Xander. "We'll find her, Xander," she told him. She didn't sound convincing at all. She didn't even try to fake convincing. Looking down at him, she added, "Are you sure you're okay? That cut's pretty nasty."  
  
"What would you care?" he muttered as he stood up, instantly turning his back on her.   
  
"Huh?" She blinked once. "What?"  
  
"Oh, I'm just talking about your reaction back in Sunnydale, that's all," he replied with a coldness in his voice that Willow rarely heard from him. He glanced over his shoulder at the baffled red head. "I can't believe you did that, Willow. You saw what happened to Buffy the same as I did. And you stopped. When I got here and you didn't come out of the portal after me, for a moment, I thought you weren't coming at all."  
  
Willow pressed her lips together and lowered her gaze to the ground. "Xander, I - I ... you don't know what I -"  
  
"I don't care, Willow." He whirled around, eyes narrowed at her. "You show up at my house, practically beat down my door while screaming about how we need to go see Buffy and now. Then we witness her kidnapping and you don't do a damn thing but stand there."  
  
She sighed heavily. "As I was telling you, Xander, you don't know what I heard. What I saw."  
  
"I can only assume it was the same things I heard and saw." He glanced around the alleyway they were in, wondering where in Middle-earth they were and how far away Buffy and her kidnapper were in relation to it. "Didn't think we'd be back here so soon. More like ever."  
  
Willow sighed again, a knot growing in her gut. Xander was too upset to care about what she had to say, not that it necessarily excused him, but she could understand. He loved Buffy very much, as did she, though his experiences in Middle-earth hadn't altered him in the same manner as Willow. He could sleep at nights; she could not. He could close his eyes without seeing that Eye. He could be alone and not hear that voice ... that whispering voice ...   
  
"Let's figure out where we are," Xander said, breaking the silence. He dabbed at his wound, wincing a little but he figured he would be okay. Nobody in this place would wonder about a cut. "Then we ... figure out where Buffy is."  
  
"Right. C'mon."   
  
The two of them emerged from the alley, at which point Xander smiled in recognition.  
  
"Bree! Could be worse, right?" he asked Willow, his spirits rising a little. If Buffy was here, too, things were looking up.  
  
"I guess," Willow replied half-heartedly. Not that she disagreed with him, but just being back here... so close to Sauron... was already starting to make her nervous. How long before he realized she'd come back?  
  
At any rate, none of the people - Men and the odd Hobbit - out walking were running around, screaming or otherwise alarmed, so she doubted that cloaked rider had come through here any time recently. Looking around, she did spot a familiar landmark. "There's that inn we stayed at. Might as well start there."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
The inn of the Prancing Pony was exactly as they remembered it - crowded, noisy, smelly and dimly lit, at least by their 20th century standards, yet still possessing no small amount of rough charm. There were only a few patrons at this early hour - a handful of Hobbits enjoying one of their many daily meals, a few older Men brooding over their ales, and two tables filled with swarthy (at least by Bree-standards) folk who spoke with strange accents.  
  
"So... now what?" Xander whispered.  
  
"You're supposed to be good at this kinda thing! All those times you went and beat up Willy for info, remember?" Willow whispered back, then sighed at the look on his face. "Go ask the bartender if he's seen Buffy, maybe?"  
  
"That might work," Xander conceded.   
  
Willow watched as he headed over to the bar and struck up a conversation with Barliman Butterbur. After a moment, she tuned that out and looked around the bar. The Hobbits had just left, and the old Bree-landers were starting to nod off. That left the foreigners, or were they just another local ethnic group? Willow had no idea, and she wasn't about to go over and ask.  
  
She suddenly flinched and turned away.  
  
Two of them were staring at her.  
  
[You're imagining things - like hell I am,] she thought, keeping her back towards them. But she could still feel them watching her. [It's just because you're the only girl in the place... and the only redhead in town...]  
  
Even to her, it didn't sound convincing.  
  
[Xander, hurry *up*!]  
  
Somehow, she managed not to scream when Xander put his hand on her shoulder.  
  
"You okay?" he asked, noticing how pale she was.  
  
"You startled me," Willow replied. Before he could challenge that, she asked, "What did he say?"  
  
"Nothing. Well, nothing about Buffy and that creepy horse guy, anyway. I do know more about this year's ale than I ever wanted to, though."  
  
Willow sighed. Somehow, she had expected they wouldn't get any help here, but it was still frustrating. "Now what do we do?"  
  
"We find Buffy," Xander replied. "If these people can't help us, we'll find someone who can."  
  
"Who?"  
  
Xander sighed theatrically. "The people who ruined my Christmas."  
  
"Oh. Great," Willow muttered. She still had lingering doubts about Elves, doubts that she couldn't get rid of even though she knew their true source. "Let's just get out of here, okay?"  
  
-  
  
Two hours later, they passed through the South Gate. Gone were their watches, bartered away in exchange for much-needed traveling gear. They had come out far ahead on the deal, gaining rucksacks, bedrolls, a sturdy frying pan, a pair of sharp knives, walking sticks, and a few days worth of food. The man who had bought the watches had clearly thought he'd come out ahead nonetheless, marveling as he had over the 'Dwarven' craftsmanship.  
  
Marveling over that and also strongly warning Willow and Xander against going east, he had, in fact, seemed almost dumbstruck at the very idea, but would only mutter something about wars when Xander had asked why.  
  
"East is East and Bree is Bree, and that's all I care," was the shopkeep's way of closing the conversation.  
  
So it was on that note that the two of them set out on the long road to Rivendell.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Much further southeast of where Willow and Xander had arrived in Middle-earth, Buffy Summers arrived at a place seen by few and feared by many. Deep in the heart of Mordor, in the foulest and least pleasant land in the whole of Middle-earth, sat the Dark Tower of Barad-dûr. The Lord of Mordor, or what was left of him after so many long ages of decay and darkness, resided within its adamant walls.   
  
Settled on a bleak and jagged outcrop of the Ash Mountains, Sauron's rebuilt fortress was once again alive with activity. She didn't see much of the place because of a darkness that shrouded the lands, a darkness which the black-clad figure didn't seem to be bothered by as he rode hard through the towering gates with her.   
  
Though she couldn't see much of anything, the darkness did nothing to inhibit her ability to hear clearly. Voices shouting, accompanied by the sounds of construction, and every so often a piercing scream, gave her some clue as to how big a force Sauron had working for him. It was a large force, numbering in the thousands at the very least, from what she gathered.   
  
The rest of Middle-earth was in for quite a battle. And it wasn't going to be pretty when it happened. Despite knowing her future was secure, Buffy still felt fearful of it all. What if something changed? What if her being there changed everything? The free people of Middle-earth could fail for some reason - Hobbits, Elves and the rest, all under Sauron's grasp - and then, worse, her own world would be gone.  
  
After what seemed to be forever, Buffy's kidnapper reined his horse to a halt, dismounted then pulled her off of the horse after him. Refusing to give in, she renewed her struggles to escape. As before, it was useless. Something about this freaky guy wasn't bothered by Slayer-strength punches or kicks, and he didn't respond to any of her snide comments, either.  
  
She lifted her head as she was carried up an endless flight of black stairs. Taking a look around, she marveled at the architecture of the place - grim, but magnificent all the same. As far as Evil Villain Lairs went, Sauron certainly had the best - hands down. So to speak. Of course, Buffy hadn't seen many unless she counted the decrepit mansion outside of Sunnydale Angelus, Spike and Drusilla had used for a base of operations.   
  
Once again, the kidnapper came to a stop. The sound of a large door being opened was followed by the low groan of hinges in awful need of WD-40. Buffy craned her head around as she tried to get a better look at where she'd been taken. She'd no more than moved her head when the hooded figure practically tossed her into the darkened room.  
  
"OOF!" She hit the floor, which felt almost like metal to her, hard. "Ow," she muttered as she placed her hands on the floor to push up from it. She flipped her hair out of her face then narrowed her eyes on the hooded figure standing in the doorway just staring at her. "You're going to be sorry you did that," she warned.  
  
The figure stared at her for another moment then flung the door shut. The clang of metal on metal reverberated throughout the cell the Slayer had been placed in. Closing her eyes, she prayed it would cease. In a few minutes, the cell had become almost dead silent. Faint noises could be heard yet none of them clear enough for her to distinguish what they were. Sitting back on her heels, Buffy gave the cell a once over.  
  
"Well, looks like this is home for awhile. Until I can escape, that is," she said to herself. She slowly got to her feet, wandered over to the far wall and placed her hands on it. Her brow furrowed. The walls were much like the floor - made out of the same metallic material. She slammed an open palm against the wall then muttered a curse as she shook her stung hand. She flexed her fingers. "Punching my way through that is out."  
  
She turned away from the wall and scanned the rest of the room. It wasn't a horribly small cell, and it wasn't exactly the Ritz-Carlton, either. No bed, no lights, nothing in the way of a bathroom, which concerned her for a moment. The only thing she had was a barred window on the opposite side of her cell. This was where the noises originated from as well.  
  
The Slayer crossed the cold cell floor, reached up above her head and latched her fingers around the bars over the open window. Easily, she hoisted herself up until she could peer through the bars. Her eyes widened slightly at what she saw outside. Far off in the distance, perhaps not all that far, a volcano continuously belched out lava. The red-orange molten rock spilled over the sides, and from what she could tell streams of it had been channeled to the Tower she was now held prisoner within.  
  
"Nobody said anything about a volcano," she muttered, still staring in wonder at it. Her head tilted to one side as she continued to stare. Something about it was ... off, though. She didn't know a whole lot about volcanoes, earthquakes yes, but something wasn't right about the one in Mordor.  
  
Sighing heavily, she pulled her gaze away from the cone and focused on the area directly ahead of her. Somewhere, beyond the dark chain of mountains, was freedom. She could almost smell it. Unless that was really just the sulfur and ash from the erupting volcano she smelt. Carefully, she lowered herself until her bare feet touched the floor.  
  
The graveness of the situation finally hitting her, Buffy swallowed hard as she turned and leaned against the chilly wall. Here she was, in some huge freaking tower in the middle of God knew where in this Mordor, and no apparent way to get out. Drumming her fingers on the wall, her head lowered and she sighed once more.   
  
[Where are Xander and Willow?] she wondered. [Did they follow me into the portal? Or was there a portal to follow me into? What if I'm here alone?] Her head lifted as yelling from outside caught her attention for a moment. Once it passed, she continued to think. [If they did follow, where are they now? I didn't see them. What if they're out there ... somewhere ... wandering around in the dark? What if they're -]  
  
"No, Buffy, don't think that," she said, shaking her head. "They're not dead. They aren't dead." Somehow, saying it aloud didn't make it anymore convincing. "They'll be all right. They're Xander and ... and Willow." Her legs gradually gave out under her and she slid down the wall until she was in a sitting position.  
  
Tears filled her eyes. Her arms wrapped around her legs as she drew her knees closer to her chest. [Why is he doing this to me?] she thought, meaning Sauron. [What does he want? What is it?] Resting her head on her knees, she kept herself from fully sobbing despite how utterly alone she felt at this moment in time. [Why am I here?]  
  
End Chapter 1  
  
To Be Continued ... 


	2. Reunion

-  
  
Chapter 2 -   
  
Chapter Two - "Reunion"  
  
-  
  
The old Road stretched out from Bree, much as it had on their first visit. After a few miles, though, Willow and Xander noticed it was more worn now, and wide stretches of grass on both sides had been trampled flat by many travelers.  
  
"Looks like they weren't kidding back there," Xander said, glancing down at a set of freshly-laid wagon tracks. "You think it's really that bad? All that war stuff? And..." He lowered his voice a little. "And Sauron?"  
  
Willow shrugged and tried not to shiver. "I don't know," she replied after a few seconds. Things felt differently, somehow, but how much of that was real and not just worried imagination at work? "Let's just get to Rivendell. They'll know."  
  
"Right." Xander glanced at Willow for a second, then nodded and the two of them continued on along the Road.  
  
A long, lonely day came and went, and they made camp as the sun began to set over the slowly receding Bree-hill to the west.   
  
Three more days like that passed and then they left behind even the last faint signs of civilization, and that was only an isolated farm off to the north of the road. And once that was behind them, ahead lay only wilderness and the ancient Road.  
  
Another week passed in which they saw little more than deer, birds and foxes, until on the thirteenth day out of Bree they finally encountered travelers along the Road.  
  
It was late in the day, the sun was already low in the sky, and the two of them were ready to stop and make camp when they heard it - deep, gruff voices raised in song that echoed through the rain and mist that covered the countryside.   
  
"The world was fair, the mountains tall,  
In Elder Days before the fall  
Of mighty kings in Nargothrond  
And Gondolin, who now beyond  
The Western Seas have passed away:  
The world was fair in Durin's Day."  
  
  
Willow and Xander exchanged glances then silently crept forwards. As the song continued, they could just begin to make out a fire, and then another, off to the side of the road.  
  
"A king he was on carven throne  
In many-pillared halls of stone  
With golden roof and silver floor,  
And runes of power upon the door.  
The light of sun and star - "  
  
Abruptly, the singing stopped and Willow and Xander could just barely hear whispers. They both drew back a little, and Xander had drawn his dagger when four shapes emerged from the gray curtain of rain a dozen yards or so away.  
  
They were each cloaked and hooded, and wielding large axes or swords. Their faces were hidden, and they were between the size of Men and Hobbits, perhaps five feet tall on average and stocky, or so it seemed - the cloaks and rain made it difficult to tell.  
  
"Well, well, this is an odd sight. Travelers going East!" one of the hooded figures exclaimed. He stepped forward with his sword still raised, and drew back his hood with one hand. A weather-worn face with sharp brown eyes and an enormous black beard (sprinkled with a generous amount of gray hairs) was revealed.  
  
The bearded Dwarf, as Xander finally realized he was, eyed them for a second then bowed his head. "Nar, son of Burin, at your service," the Dwarf concluded with a nod. His speech had a strange accent, but neither Willow nor Xander could even begin to place it.  
  
"Xander, son of Robert. And Willow," Xander replied, gesturing lamely in Willow's direction. "Er, not in the 'son of Willow' sense..."  
  
"Xander... Willow..." Nar repeated the names again under his breath. "These lazy lumps here are my brothers, Anar, Hannar, and Lofar," he said, pointing at each of the other Dwarves in turn. "And back a ways around our fires are the rest... Nyi, Nidi, and Sudri, Austri, Vig, Hor, Har, and Siar, Ai and Ingi, Fal, Frosti and Finn, and Rekk and Thekk last of all." True enough, more Dwarves could be seen approaching through the drizzle.  
  
"And you're turned around on the road, it seems," he offered, eyeing them curiously. "Or we are, and Bree is behind us."  
  
"No, it's back that way," Willow hesitantly pointed out, gesturing back  
westward.  
  
"Ahh, so I thought." Nar shook his head.   
  
"Cracked!" one of the other Dwarves, Lofar, the youngest looking, murmured. "What business could you have in the east?" he asked.  
  
"Lofar! Mind your manners," Nar grumbled, slapping his brother on the shoulder. "Their business is theirs as ours is ours!"  
  
There followed a short and angry whispered conversation amongst the Dwarves. After a moment, Nar emerged from the huddle.   
  
"You must forgive Lofar. His mouth hammers faster than his mind at times," he told Willow and Xander. "But if an old Dwarf can give a bit of advice, he'd say you should turn around and go back. There's nothing but darkness and trouble to the east."  
  
"Trouble?" Xander repeated.  
  
Nar's eyes narrowed and Lofar muttered "Cracked!" once more.   
  
"Yes, trouble. And if the name Nargûn - Mordor - means anything to you folk west of the mountains, that's all the explanation you'll need."  
  
"Mordor?" Willow whispered, suddenly shivering... and for a second, she felt a tiny twinge on the ring finger of her right hand.  
  
"I see that name does mean something to you, then."  
  
"Shadows in the east, and nothing can stop them... no army, no mountain, and no magic," bald and bearded Hannar whispered. "You should turn back while you can."  
  
"We can't," Xander declared. "We're only going - we're not going that far, anyway," he said, catching himself before revealing their destination. One thing he did remember from their first visit to Middle-earth was that Dwarves and Elves did not get along. And Rivendell was supposed to be hidden... or at least, he thought it was. [Better safe than sorry, anyway. Don't wanna piss off the Elves. Or the Dwarves.]  
  
"So be it." Nar shrugged and drummed his fingers on the pommel of his sword. "There's little harm in offering fair warning in these days. If you have a mind to go East that's your business."  
  
"And your death, too, I'd wager," Hannar added in a hushed voice before falling back under the force of Nar's glare.   
  
"I will add just one thing, and then let you make your own way. We've come through the hills just that way," Nar said, pointing to the west, "and twice were attacked by wolves, wolves bold enough not to fear fire. Something is stirring them up, and you'd best be on your guard if you stick to this course."  
  
"Wolves?" Xander said then looked around as if a pack of lupines would suddenly emerge out of the drizzle and darkness.   
  
Nar smiled cunningly. "Wolves indeed. And here you are, just two of you wandering in the dark. We have fire, and axes if that fails again... Perhaps we could make a deal?"  
  
"What?" Willow asked, instantly on guard. The last 'deal' she'd made in Middle-earth had nearly ended in disaster.  
  
"Simply this. You two can spend the night in our camp, safe from harm, or at least as safe as we are, and in exchange, you tell us some news from further west," Nar explained.  
  
After a short debate, Willow and Xander agreed to Nar's offer. After all, if the Dwarves wanted to pull any surprises, they would have already, Xander reasoned. Besides, the real threat of wolves seemed more dangerous than being stabbed in the night by some Dwarves.  
  
Dwarves who, it turned out, were also refugees. They only grudgingly spoke of their homeland, saying only that it was far to the East and had lately fallen under the shadow of the Enemy - Sauron. Rather than be overwhelmed by Sauron's legions, they had made the perilous journey west, seeking a safer home. But even that hope was fleeting, judging by their anxious murmurs, and unless Mahal (a name they uttered in reverence) delivered them, few saw any escape from the growing Darkness.  
  
For their part of the bargain, Willow and Xander told all they knew of Bree, the Shire, and all the lands beyond, which did not amount to much. The Dwarves, thankfully, didn't seem too surprised at this - their opinion of Men in general was rather low. All the same, they were somewhat disheartened that neither Willow nor Xander knew of any Dwarven halls west of the Misty Mountains.  
  
In the morning, when Xander and Willow awoke, their Dwarven hosts were gone. One of them had scratched a message in the mud - the word 'Cracked!' underscored.  
  
"I'm thinking he's the one who's cracked," Xander muttered as they broke camp.  
  
"You're both right," Willow countered with a smile. And then they were off again.  
  
-  
  
They made slow progress, owing as much to the weather as their own lack of wild lore. Elenya had taught them as best she could during their first visit, but it was immeasurably harder without her - or Buffy - as their guide.   
  
Thus it was that a pair of very bedraggled and hungry wanderers reached the Ford of the Bruinen on a cold late autumn morning many days later. They both nearly collapsed in relief when a small company of Elvish sentries emerged as soon as they set foot in the chill waters of the river.  
  
The Elves held their bows at the ready and called out a warning in their own tongue. For a moment, the situation remained tense, as Willow and Xander knew a little Elvish, then one of the Elves suddenly let out a cry of recognition.  
  
"The friends of Elenya!" he exclaimed, rushing forward to confirm his own words. After a moment, he nodded in satisfaction. "This is a strange chance, if chance it be." The Elf suddenly smiled. "Lord Elrond, and many others within his halls, will wish to see you. Come, we will take you there swiftly!"  
  
Another one of the Elves whistled sharply, and a moment later, yet another Elf appeared out of the woods with two horses trotting along behind him.  
  
A short time later, Willow and Xander and their Elven guides came to the top of a grassy ridge. Below them lay the valley of the Bruinen, steep walls of rock forming the banks, and clinging to the nearer side were the familiar wooden domes and long tree-lined walkways... Rivendell, the refuge of Lord Elrond and one of the last few dwindling Elf-realms in all Middle-earth.  
  
Xander smiled contently as he and Willow were escorted down a winding path to the gates of Rivendell, but Willow shivered slightly and rubbed the pale white band on her ring finger, until she caught herself and tucked both hands into the pockets of her robe.  
  
"What do you think he meant when he said it was a 'strange chance' - oh my God, Giles!" Willow yelped when another group of Elves emerged from the forest to their left - elves and a very familiar man in muted brown traveling clothes. "Giles!" Willow repeated, breaking into a run.  
  
Xander followed only a few paces behind, and smiled when Willow tackle-hugged the former Watcher.  
  
"Easy, Willow," Giles murmured, a fond smile on his face as he gently slipped out of the redhead's grip. "You'll break these old bones."  
  
Willow winced and stepped back. "Sorry. Giles! You look great. You haven't aged a day," she said, provoking a laugh from the Englishman.  
  
"Thank you, Willow," Giles said. Her comment was clearly not true - his hair was thinner and grayer now, years and miles had worn his face, and there were a few small scars on his chin. "Xander."  
  
"G-Man." He wasn't as thrilled to see the ex-Watcher as Willow. Because of his decision to stay behind, Buffy'd been in a funk for two months. It was a chore to get her to even go to Giles's place so they could figure out what to do with the Watcher's things. She sobbed the entire time as well. Only she didn't think he and Willow had heard her.  
  
The two men smiled at each other and silence fell for a few long seconds.  
  
"God, it's good to see you both." Giles smiled again for a moment.  
  
"Giles, it's..."   
  
"Buffy. I know," Giles said, the smile fading.   
  
"Huh? You know?" Willow frowned. "How?"  
  
"Elenya had a dream. It's why we came to Rivendell. Or part of the why," Giles explained. He clasped his hands together in front of him, rubbing his palms together in an anxious manner then exhaled deeply. "But we should go inside. Lord Elrond is expecting you, amongst others."  
  
"Yeah, the... uh, Elf guy... said there were others here," Willow said as she, Giles and Xander headed down the path to Rivendell. "Who else?"  
  
"You'll see," Giles replied.  
  
[You'll see? What the hell kind of answer is that? He can't just tell us?] "Great, he's gone native," Xander muttered. He wanted to get the gang together and go after Buffy, not meet with a bunch of other people. Or God knew what they were, considering this was Middle-earth.  
  
Willow placed a hand on his shoulder, giving him a sympathetic yet stern look. "Xander, we'll need their help," she reminded him gently. She wanted Buffy back as much as he did even if she didn't hold much hope of that happening. Still, any advantage they could get, she would take it.   
  
"We saw how much 'help' they were last time," he bitterly replied, shrugging Willow's hand off of his shoulder. "Why should they be any different this time?"  
  
-  
  
The halls of Rivendell were exactly as they were when last Willow and Xander had visited, the only difference being there were fewer Elves gracing them. Many had gone over the Sea, Giles explained when Willow mentioned it in a whisper, gone away from the growing threat of Mordor.  
  
"Those who have remained are resolved to fight him," Giles finished.   
  
"And not alone!" a familiar voice added. There, under a marble arch, stood Elenya, clad in riding clothes much like Giles', and otherwise appearing the same as she had when last Willow and Xander had seen her. There were two other Men with her - Aragorn, also untouched by age, and another, apparently a Ranger too, judging by his proud and noble bearing.  
  
"Giles, my love," she murmured, quickly embracing him before turning and smiling at the two newcomers. "Willow and Xander, it's good to see you here, in spite of it all..."  
  
Xander regarded Elenya warily. He didn't care what she said; something wasn't right about Slayers killing people. Then the whole fact that she was one of the reasons Giles stayed behind. "What do you know?" he asked bluntly.   
  
Willow elbowed him hard in the ribs, gave him a "Will you try to act civilized" look then gave an apologetic one to Elenya, Aragorn and the other Man.   
  
"I'm sorry," said Xander, not even trying to fake like he sounded sorry.  
  
"It's nothing," Elenya replied. "These are trying times for all of us." She briefly glanced at Aragorn, then back at Willow and Xander. "To answer your question, I know only this... Buffy has been taken by the Enemy, somehow, and even now..." She sighed and held her hand against her breast. "I cannot imagine what she endures."  
  
Willow blinked when a flash of the Eye, inside of her mind, struck her. A hand went to her temple as she gasped very quietly. [Buffy ... ] was the first thought she had. Along with the Eye was a vision of a foreboding tower - and somehow, she just knew that's where the Slayer was being held. She blinked again as she lowered her hand. That's when she noticed how the others looked at her - especially the Men.  
  
Luckily, Xander took the focus off of her when he demanded, "Taken by the Enemy, taken where?"  
  
"To the East. To..." Elenya's voice dropped to a whisper. "To Barad-Dûr. I've seen her there, locked away in the Enemy's tower." Her face paled and she lowered her eyes. "I'm sorry."  
  
Willow swallowed. She'd known that. She'd seen the Tower Elenya spoke of just moments before. Why? Why was she connected to Sauron? For what purpose? Shaking it off, she glanced over to Xander.  
  
"Don't worry. Just tell us how to get her back," Xander said. Barad-Dur, Mordor, Mars, it didn't matter. He'd go anywhere he had to in order save her from whatever tortures Sauron had in store for her.   
  
"Get her back?" Elenya stared at Xander in amazement. "It - it can't be done."  
  
Xander narrowed his eyes at the Slayer. "What do you mean it can't be done?"  
  
"None have ever escaped from the Dark Tower."  
  
"Then Buffy'll be the first," he simply stated. He pushed away Willow's hand as she tried to calm him down before he became out of control. He gave her a side-glance then shifted his attention back to the group before him. "I didn't come all of this way to just sit on my ass and let some overgrown eyeball kill her. We've faced bad asses before, they all were destroyed. This joker isn't any different. I'm getting her back."  
  
"You know not of what you speak," Aragorn said. "If you venture into  
Mordor, you will die before the first night falls. Or, if fate is cruel, Sauron and his beasts will keep you alive for months."  
  
"Buffy would go to Hell and back for us," Xander snapped, whirling towards Aragorn. He felt Willow's hand on his arm again as she tried to keep him from doing something stupid. "She's DIED for us! In my book, that means we owe her, even our lives. Willow, would you stop it!"  
  
Willow pulled back her hand when Xander lashed out at her attempts to control him. Her lips pressed together tightly and she swallowed hard. "Xander, I just think you're rushing into this -" she began.  
  
"Willow, if you were in this Barad-Dur joint, do you think Buffy would be standing here talking about death or the possible torture she could face if she were caught? Hell no!" He turned back to the others, addressing Giles more than anyone now. "I'm going after her and if you're - "  
  
"Xander! That's quite enough." Giles' harsh interruption startled Willow and only made Xander's eyes darken at the older man. He exchanged a look with Elenya - the level of tension among those already in the halls of Elrond's house was high. The addition of Xander's wouldn't help. "We're guests here. Losing our temper won't accomplish anything."  
  
"And standing around saying it can't be done -" A quick glare was shot in Aragorn's direction. "- isn't going to, either, Giles!" Xander snarled then turned to the fifth Man, hitherto silent. "You wanna weigh in on this, too, pal?"  
  
The Man shrugged. "I know not this Buffy, but if you would risk Mordor for her ... " He gazed at Xander for a moment. "Such a feat would be brave indeed."  
  
"It would also be foolish indeed," Aragorn countered. "Even - " he began and suddenly stopped, as if he'd said too much.   
  
Willow's eyes flicked over to Aragorn and she caught the expression on his face, one that was there for only a moment then gone again, stoic exterior returned. He'd almost said something he wasn't supposed to. Willow rarely had that problem, things dribbled out of her mouth like a waterfall sometimes. Aragorn, however, managed to catch it before it overflowed.   
  
Her gaze shifted to the man just to the left of Aragorn. He, too, seemed to be in on this little secret. Whatever the secret was, Mordor was involved, obviously. Something was going on, more than just Sauron's bid to take over Middle-earth and Buffy's kidnapping.   
  
"Xander, you must understand - there is nothing you can do for Buffy but pray," Elenya added.  
  
"Pray?" Xander replied. He looked at Elenya as though she hadn't been speaking English to him. Or whatever. "That's your best idea? I hate to tell you, but that's not enough!" He gave them all once last glare. "With this attitude, it's a friggin' wonder mankind even survived beyond now." He snorted, almost amused as he shook his head. "Hell, why don't we just roll over and let'em kidnap us ALL!"   
  
With that said, Xander turned sharply on his heel and stormed off, heading for the covered walk that ran along the edge of one of the cliffs.  
  
"He hasn't changed at all! Impetuous..."   
  
Elenya laid a hand on Giles' sleeve. "If it was I who was locked in the Dark Tower, would you act otherwise?"  
  
He frowned at her, then sighed and shook his head. "Someone should go talk to him before he goes off on his own."  
  
Elenya nodded, even though she knew the guards would not let a stranger like Xander simply stroll out of Rivendell alone.   
  
"I'll go," Willow said then hurried off after Xander.  
  
Once she was gone, Giles sighed. "We should tell them."  
  
"We cannot," Aragorn said regretfully. "None who know can leave Rivendell until the end, for good or ill. The quest will be perilous enough. If he was to fall into the hands of the Enemy, and forced to reveal what he knew, there would be no hope."  
  
"Our paths are the same. Could he not come with us?" Boromir wondered.  
  
"The risk is too great. And our path goes to Mount Doom, not the Dark Tower. Only death awaits there."  
  
Giles said nothing, but shook his head slightly. [There must be a way...]  
  
"My lord, we cannot forsake Buffy," Elenya insisted. "You know what lies in Mordor. You know what terrors await her there."  
  
"What would you have me do?" Aragorn replied. "Send two children into those terrors? They would be taken and perish before they even reached the mountains. And if they did somehow come onto those peaks, what then? Climb over them, or try and slip through the black gates? Either way would be folly."  
  
-  
  
End Chapter 2  
  
To Be Continued.   
  
Chapter Three might not be here for a bit. Still in the process of writing the story, unlike with the first which was finished beforehand. Please be patient. Thank you to all who've been reading my work and the co-authored work. It makes me so happy to see that people are enjoying yarns that I dream up in my car on the way to work. :) 


	3. My Weakness

Chapter Three - "My Weakness"  
  
-  
  
"Stupid idiots!" Xander hissed as he stormed away from the others. To say he was pissed off was putting it lightly. All they wanted to do was hide in Rivendell while Buffy remained in the hands of Sauron and his disgusting Orcs. God knew what was happening to her. Time was wasting.   
  
Xander kicked the high wooden railing at the edge of a rounded platform once he paced about for moment. Sighing heavily, he rested his elbows on the railing, placing his forehead on his palms then gazed down at the Bruinen far below. The waters surged by, gathering speed before reaching a series of waterfalls, almost like steps in the course of the river.  
  
His eyes closed. And when they did, all he could see was the black rider taking Buffy through that time rip. Buffy's expression so helpless and desperate the entire time. She was the one who needed saving this time and no one wanted to even try. His fingernails began to dig into his skin without him realizing it at first.  
  
"Pretty, isn't it?"  
  
Xander's eyes opened when he heard Willow's voice. Almost instantly, his fingers relaxed on his skull, his hands slid over his hair and he lifted his head while still leaning against the railing.   
  
"I don't get it, Willow," he said, his voice low and cool. "What the hell has happened to Giles?" He shifted his head so he could see the redhead from the corner of his eye. "There used to be a time when all he had to hear was that Buffy needed help and he was the first one out of the door."  
  
Willow averted her gaze away from Xander. "Yes, that's true, Xander. But it's been a long time for him. Ten years. He's ... different now."   
  
He stood straight but still didn't turn. "This is Buffy we're talking about, Willow. His Slayer. A girl he would've died for in an instant if he thought it could save her life." He gripped the railing with his hands, squeezing it so tightly his knuckles turned white. "Now he sounds like these people here. 'Oh, it's too dangerous', 'We could die'. Isn't that what all of this is about?"  
  
She stepped closer to Xander on the little overlook. "I want to help her as much as you do. And there are things you don't know, like Aragorn said," she gently informed him. The man was right. Xander was too blinded by his love for Buffy to think rationally. She knew the feeling. But she also had an insight into Sauron and Mordor in general that no one else did.  
  
For the first time, Xander faced Willow a suspicious glint in his eyes as he regarded her. "And I'm beginning to wonder whose side you're really on," he hissed in response.  
  
Willow stared up at him, stunned. It was as though he'd literally slapped her in the face. Her mouth opened as she fought to find words to respond to that accusation but suddenly a chill ran down her spine. Her mouth snapped shut as the familiar presence of the Darkness returned.   
  
High-pitched laughter spilled out from the hallway she'd just left. Slowly, she turned and came face to face with four familiar Hobbits. Though one in particular brought her more fear than any of the others - Frodo Baggins.  
  
[Willlloooooow ... ] a deep, throaty voice hissed in her mind. She looked away but images from those ... those dreams wouldn't leave her.   
  
['You won't leave me, will you?'] her own voice echoed. Then 'Frodo' answered, ['No, Willow, I will not leave you. I am with you. Always.']  
  
Xander, however, continued to exchange the blank stare with the others for a few seconds. Then the youngest let out a cry of recognition.  
  
"You! You're the brute that landed in Frodo's roses!" Pippin exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Xander.  
  
[Willlloooow. Come ... ] the voice in her mind demanded. She bit her lower lip as her flesh grew flushed with an odd fever. Her left hand absently drifted over to her right, the fingers gripping her right hand so very tight. Swallowing hard, she closed her eyes. [What's wrong with me?] she thought, panicked.  
  
"I - wha - that was an accident," Xander stammered, caught off guard. The two Hobbits who'd physically assaulted him didn't look convinced. The other, the one he recognized as the gardener, eyed him as though he were a common criminal. Or otherwise up to no good. "We all landed in the flowers, okay? It wasn't just me!"  
  
"You insulted us!" Merry declared, pointing a finger at Xander as he took a bold step forward. "Called us ... " He squinted then looked over to Pippin. "What was it he called us, Pip?"  
  
"Munchkins!"  
  
"That wasn't an insult!" Xander declared. This time, he matched the step Merry had taken forward. He was bigger than they were, right? And he wasn't in the mood to be pushed around by Hobbits for something that wasn't even his fault. "Was it, Will?"   
  
No answer from her.  
  
"Willow?" He glanced at Willow and noticed her face had paled, and she was furiously rubbing her right hand. "Will, are you all right?" Her breathing sounded labored and her eyes, when she finally looked at him ... her eyes had this strange glow in them.   
  
Xander's voice registered with her and she looked over to him. He was concerned, worried would've been more accurate. [I should've never come here.] Her gaze was torn back to Frodo.  
  
[Willllllow...] a soft voice whispered into her mind, but louder was the hissing of flames. For a terrifying moment, that was all she could hear.  
  
[Go away!] she shouted in her thoughts. Without realizing it, she'd begun to back away from them. [Leave me alone! Leave me alone!] But it wouldn't go away. It refused to leave her mind. The pressure was too great now.  
  
"Willow!"  
  
She gasped as she bumped up against the wooden railing. She grasped it for balance, for support. Her eyes darted around nervously. Something was happening ... something was near. It was so powerful, so terrifying, yet alluring. She desired nothing more than to get away from it but she couldn't will herself to leave.   
  
"Are you okay?" Xander asked, a startled look upon his face. He reached out to her but she jerked away from him before he could touch her. His brow furrowed when Willow shook her head. "Willow ... what's the matter?" He followed her gaze to see she kept glancing at Frodo. Then he remembered the dreams she talked about. Was that it? Did she think that this Frodo was the one Sauron had pretended to be?  
  
"Xander ... there's - " She looked again at Frodo and shuddered. Upon his breast there was a small golden shape wreathed in blazing red flame. [The Ring, he's got the Ring, he's got the Ring!] Part of her ached to take it from him, what could he do to her? She had powers that he didn't. Yes, it would be so easy. [Goddess Hecate, work thy will ... ]  
  
And behind that...  
  
[NO!] Willow let out a terrified whimper and threw herself back, away from Frodo and the Ring. The world spun around, an inexplicable dizziness washed over her. She tripped over her own feet and found herself falling backwards, almost like it was in slow motion. The last thing she felt was a sharp pain at the back of her head.  
  
[Help ... me ...] she weakly thought.  
  
Her eyes rolled back in her head and then everything faded to black.  
  
-  
  
"You shall not be able to resist me much longer," Sauron's voice whispered. "No one will. Join me ... join me before it is too late for you, Willow."  
  
-  
  
" - she's waking up."  
  
"Uhh..." Willow forced her eyes open. She blinked a few times as her eyes adjusted to the amount of light in the room. One hand lifted and she placed it to her forehead. Sauron's voice was gone now. No longer inside of her mind, the Darkness had lifted from her as well. [What ... happened?] She became aware of a throbbing pain at the back of her head.   
  
"Willow?" Xander gently asked as he took one of her hands into his. He sat at the edge of the bed, the intense worry for his dear friend on his face. He glanced up at Giles who stood on the other side of the bed. For the first time since they'd arrived in Middle-earth, the old Giles showed himself. And in that moment, Xander's annoyance with the ex-Watcher subsided, if only for a brief time.  
  
"Mmm ..." Willow dropped her other hand back down on the bed. Squinting, she looked from Giles to Xander then around the luxurious room she'd been placed in by her Elven host. Elenya and Elrond, and Gandalf [What is *he* doing here?], lurked in the background. The pale light of the dawning day streamed in through the windows. "M'I?" she mumbled as she shifted her attention over to Xander.  
  
Xander smiled down at her and continued to pat her hand. "Welcome back. You're still in Rivendell," he added to answer her question.  
  
"What happened?" Willow asked, her voice hoarse. The last thing she remembered clearly was going out after Xander, and then... Nothing. The memory remained elusive, lurking just beyond her grasp.  
  
"You swooned, young Willow, and nearly took a plunge into the Bruinen," Elrond said.   
  
[Swooned?] "I did? I don't remember." Willow frowned as she propped herself up onto her elbows. "Why?"  
  
Instead of replying, Elrond turned towards the doorway and beckoned someone that Willow could not see into the room.  
  
"Frodo was most - "  
  
She'd no more than heard Elrond say Frodo's name when the panic set in. When the young Hobbit entered the room, she acted upon it. "No! Stay away!" Willow cried out, awkwardly scrambling backwards on the bed, trying desperately to get away from Frodo and that which he bore - or rather, that which he was not bearing. The Ring was not there, Willow realized, rather too late to preserve her dignity.  
  
Xander had stood suddenly when Willow went into a fit. He stared at her, amazed at her violent response to seeing Frodo. This went beyond bad dreams; that was for sure. He looked up at Giles, and he too had the solemn expression Elrond now wore on his face. He shifted his gaze over to the Hobbit. Frodo didn't seem too surprised by how Willow had responded. Worried was a better description.  
  
"Will?" he softly asked. He arched his eyebrows when she looked up at him, her lower lip trembling. He sat back down by her side and offered her his hand again but she did not take it. She hunched up in a ball at the head of the bed, eyes flicking from him to Frodo.  
  
"It is as I feared. The taint of the lesser ring still lingers," Elrond said. "I am sorry, Willow. We had hoped it was otherwise."  
  
"The taint?" Xander repeated, his eyes narrowing a little at Elrond. He looked up at Giles when the older man cleared his throat. Yes, Xander remembered Willow's little precious all too well. He shifted his gaze back to Willow, much more sympathetic towards her now. That was what she'd tried to tell him back in Bree - about what she'd seen and heard.  
  
Willow swallowed hard. Though Frodo didn't carry the Ring on him, she could still sense the presence of its power in Rivendell. It called to her. Beckoned her. Taunted her. Her eyes lifted up to Giles, who gazed upon her with an apologetic expression. She pressed her lips together and sighed gently.   
  
"It would seem that your quest will continue," Gandalf added, a resigned expression upon his face.   
  
Xander frowned at the Wizard. "You're kicking us out of Rivendell?" he asked. "That's not - "  
  
"Not true," Elrond finished calmly. "News has come from over the mountains. When Willow is ready, we will discuss it." He nodded at Willow, then turned and left with Gandalf.   
  
"Isn't that just great," Xander muttered as he folded his arms across his chest then leaned back against the headboard. "If it's not one thing it's another. Why can't we ever catch a friggin' break? The whole universe is against us."  
  
Willow, however, didn't hear a word he said. She had her arms crossed over her chest, her hands kneading her upper arms as she stared at Frodo. An ache inside of her had been revived - one she'd never fully shaken upon waking up in 1999. That darkness connected them all - no matter what - she felt it as one "ringbearer" to another.   
  
Frodo lingered a moment, staring at Willow. On a subconscious level, he too had the connection to the redhead. He'd only spent a brief amount of time with her and that had been ten long years before. He didn't know why felt in such a manner towards almost a perfect stranger. After a few more moments, he broke the stare with her then left the room as well.  
  
Once Frodo had gone, Willow managed to relax again. She unwrapped her arms from herself then looked from Giles to Xander. "I'm feeling like Out Of the Loop Girl. I missed a lot of stuff, didn't I?" she said once she was sure they were really gone.  
  
"You freaked the hell out of the Hobbits, for one thing," Xander replied. He managed a small smile then added, "Saved me from getting my shins smashed up, at least."  
  
"Anything for the team," Willow replied absently. She threw a glance in the direction of the doorway the others had left thought only a minute before. For a second, the memories of the Eye threatened to flood her mind, but she forced them down. She felt sick to her stomach again.   
  
"Are you alright, Willow?" Giles asked, noticing her hands clench the sheets with white knuckles for a second before relaxing.  
  
"Yeah. I'm okay," she lied. "My head's just a little sore." She felt the spot where she'd hit the railing and winced. There was a huge lump there. "Great."  
  
"It'll heal soon enough," Elenya assured her. "There are few better places to seek healing than in the house of Elrond."  
  
"Uh-huh." The House of Elrond was no more comforting this time around to her. The Ring being so near ... it still called to her. Willow sat up and swung her legs off the side of the bed. "I guess we shouldn't keep him waiting too long." [The quicker we can get this figured out, the quicker we can get out of here. Far away from Frodo. And that Ring.]  
  
"Wow, easy there, Will," Xander said, putting out a hand to keep her from standing up. He lifted an eyebrow, concerned that she might be taking things too fast. First she had the physical ailments, now this 'taint' thing worried him. "Are you sure?"  
  
"Xander, I hit my head. It's not like I just came out of a coma or anything, okay?" She smiled to soften the impact of the words then stood up. "See? On my own two feet again."  
  
Xander looked over to Giles. The ex-Watcher was equally concerned, but somehow Xander got the idea it was more than just Willow's physical condition that worried him. Still, what could he do to stop her? They had to keep moving. Every minute they wasted in Rivendell was another minute Buffy was trapped in Barad-Dur. Alone.  
  
"Really, you guys," Willow assured them when she noticed how Xander and Giles exchanged looks. "I just need to bathe and change clothes. I'll be okay."  
  
Xander began to protest, but Giles placed a hand on his shoulder. "Yes, of course, Willow. We'll wait for you with the others. I trust you'll be able to find us? If not, someone will gladly show you the way." He squeezed Xander's shoulder a little when the young man tensed up. "Come along then, Xander."  
  
Willow watched the two of them leave the room then she sat back down on the bed. Actually, she wasn't as great as she made out to be. Oh, it was more than the bump on the head - much more.  
  
End Chapter 3  
  
To Be Continued ...  
  
Chapter Four will definitely be a bit longer. Got a new idea whilst writing a new section. That always throws things off. Thanks for all the great and encouraging feedback, for all my works - single and co-authored. 


	4. A Glimmer of Hope

Chapter Four - "A Glimmer of Hope."  
  
-  
  
After Willow had bathed and dressed - spending the night in bed with her clothes on had done little good for either her or the clothes - she rejoined the others and they went in search of Elrond, finding him with Gandalf in one of the many quiet studies scattered about Rivendell. With them were two Elves, nearly identical in appearance and of a clear kinship with Elrond.  
  
"My sons, Elladan and Elrohir," Elrond said as Willow and the rest entered. "Recently returned from a long journey."  
  
The two younger Elves nodded respectfully.   
  
"We have word for you from the Lady Galadriel," Elrohir said. "She had heard of your arrival and bade us to bring you her counsel. She knows of your friend's plight and she says hope yet remains that you may rescue her. Even in the depths of the Dark Tower."  
  
"Hope remains if you set out swiftly," Elladan added. "Before long, the pass east over the mountains will be blocked by snow and beasts."  
  
"Well, let's go, then!" Xander said. [*Finally* they're getting their act together.] "Saddle up the horses, shine the swords, whatever you do around here, right, Giles?"  
  
The ex-Watcher smiled, but shook his head. "Let's allow a little planning, Xander. As Aragorn said, one simply doesn't waltz into Mordor."  
  
Slightly deflated, Xander sat back down. "Okay. So how do we do it?"  
  
In response, Elrond unrolled a large, yellowing scroll. On it was a map of Middle-earth, from the Sea to the eastern marches of Mordor.   
  
"Deja-vu," Xander muttered as he stood up again to get a better look at the map. So did Willow and the others. "What is it with Elves and maps?" he whispered, mostly to himself.  
  
"The map is for you, not them," Elenya whispered back, somehow having heard him.  
  
"Few roads now lead to Mordor, and all are guarded," Elrond began, pointedly ignoring the hushed exchange. "In truth, I can see little hope for you. Were it not for the Lady Galadriel's foresight, I would see none at all. But few now living see farther and clearer than she. The Morannon, here," he pointed at the very northwest corner of the mountain-walls of Mordor, "are unbreakable by any force of arms, and guarded well by eyes that see through all spells. And the tower of Minas Morgul is home to dark sorceries. And, it is said, to the Nine Riders. One of their number claimed your friend, if your tale is true. You cannot hope to pass into Mordor by that road."  
  
"So that's it? There's only two ways into the whole country?" Willow asked, staring down at the map. "What about all this?" She pointed at the open eastern border of Mordor.  
  
Elrond traced the line of the long river that flowed from the Ash Mountains to the Sea of Nurnen. "There is a strong watch along the Nurnduin, and many patrols of Orcs and Variags."  
  
"And yet, fewer and weaker than upon the Enemy's border with Gondor," Elenya noted. "In all this wide land, there must be openings to slip through. Even the Lidless Eye," she paused and made a quick gesture over her breast, "does not see all."  
  
"You do not understand the depths of Sauron's power and fear. You would be found. And as you are now, not even the dullest of Orcs would let you pass," Gandalf said.   
  
"As we are now, perhaps. But if we were to disguise ourselves?" Giles mused. "As soldiers of Mordor, or slaves, or along those lines."  
  
The Grey Wizard shrugged. "Perhaps. Such a trick may work for a time."  
  
"Pallando used it often," Giles said.  
  
"Ahh..." Gandalf smiled, a faraway look on his face. "He was always daring."  
  
"He was," Giles said with a nod.   
  
"Was?" Willow asked him softly. For the first time, she wondered if it wasn't just Buffy's kidnapping that had driven Giles and Elenya to Rivendell. Neither of them had spoken of Pallando or Rhûn much since the reunion with Willow and Xander.  
  
"Pallando is gone," Elenya answered on Giles' behalf. The two men had become close friends over the years, and the Blue Wizard's passing was something Giles was not yet ready to speak of. "He gave up his mortal guise to make sure your slumber is - was? - not disturbed, even if a hundred ages of the world passed by."  
  
"Oh." Willow frowned slightly then let her gaze settle on Giles. The ex-Watcher removed his glasses, pinched the bridge of his nose with a thumb and forefinger but kept his head lowered. She could've sworn she'd seen tears but it could've been her eyes playing tricks on her.  
  
"He gave up his mortal guise?" Xander, however, was still trying to wrap his mind around what exactly had happened to Pallando. "What's that supposed to mean? How's that protecting our slumber? Um, past slumber which is our present slumber because we woke up in the future ... in the past ... and ... Wait." He paused, ran through the dialogue in his head, trying to make sense of it. "Oh never mind. I give up."  
  
"His power protects you in this world. He placed your bodies where Sauron and his Dark forces could not reach you. And to further vouchsafe you he became a barrier himself," Elenya explained. She waited to see if it registered with Xander but she noticed that Willow nodded a little. At least one of them understood what the Wizard had done.  
  
"We suspect that is why Sauron struck at you in your present -" Giles paused when both Xander and Willow looked him. "Our present, I mean," he corrected. No matter how much time he spent in Middle-earth, he couldn't forget where he really came from. "Once you awakened from Pallando's spell, he was free from guardianship. His power no longer kept Sauron at bay."  
  
"I still don't understand how Sauron managed to open a portal to the future," Xander started. But he didn't get far with his query. Willow placed a hand on his arm. Now wasn't the time to worry about how Sauron managed it, they had to plan, to prepare. "Okay ... never mind," he murmured.  
  
"We're definitely grateful he'd do such a thing," Willow said as she offered a sympathetic look in Giles and Gandalf's direction. [I couldn't imagine what would've happened to us if he hadn't done it.]  
  
"He rests now," Gandalf said, casting a glance in Giles's direction. "But let us not lose sight of the matter of the day. Tricks and ruses will not avail you. Do you really understand what you face?" he asked them. "There is no light in Mordor and no hope."  
  
"Say not 'no hope', friend, but rather little," Elrond corrected. "If you are to succeed, it will not be by your own efforts alone."  
  
"It is always so. Valar valuvar, Ilúvatar valuvar," Elenya murmured, again making that quick gesture over her breast.  
  
"Násie," Elrond and his sons replied, as did Gandalf and, surprisingly, Giles. Willow and Xander stared blankly.  
  
"And all our wisdom and aid can only serve to ease your path a little," Elrond continued, staring gravely at Willow and Xander.  
  
"I don't care. We're going to get Buffy," Xander declared. He looked at Willow and Giles, and breathed a sigh of relief when they both nodded. "Uh, not that we're turning down the wisdom and aid part..."  
  
"Very well. I do not see what end lies before you, but I will not deny the wisdom of Galadriel, or the counsel of my own heart," Elrond declared. "For our part, we will do what we can to see you safely through the first stage of your journey, as before."  
  
-  
  
End Chapter Four.  
  
More to come! Hope you all continue to enjoy! 


	5. Deja Vu All Over Again

Chapter Five - "Déjà vu All Over Again."  
  
-  
  
"Buffy. Buuuuuuffy ... "  
  
The Slayer groaned, rolled over onto her side while squinting her already closed eyes. [Shut up,] she thought. She was on the border between deep sleep and consciousness, aware of the world around her but no so much as she would've been if she were fully awake. [Go away.]  
  
"Buffy ... do not give up hope," the voice continued. It sounded disembodied, reverberating from somewhere beyond the mortal plane. "It is all you have left."  
  
Buffy's eyes flicked open when she heard a clanking noise from outside of her cell. She sat up suddenly, her muscles tense now with anticipation of what was to come. Was that where the voice had come from? Was it someone outside? She listened intently but nothing more followed. Her eyes scanned the cell then went up to the barred window. Muted sunlight greeted her - it was day. Or what passed for "day" in Mordor.  
  
[Vamps would love this place,] she thought with a humorless laugh. She then pushed herself onto her knees and sat back on her heels. [I'd give my right arm for a vampire about now, that's certain. Stupid company is better than no company.]  
  
For nearly three weeks - it could've been more, she'd lost track of the days anyway - she'd been alone in this dank cell. She never saw anyone, not even a guard. She never heard another voice - Orc or human or whatever - either. She thought they'd forgotten about her. The plates of something that passed for food that appeared in her cell on a daily basis told her otherwise.  
  
She rubbed her upper arms with her hands in an attempt to warm herself. The rather skimpy nightgown she'd been wearing the night of her kidnapping did nothing in the way of retaining what body heat she had. The thing was an utter mess, filthy and one of the spaghetti straps had frayed to the point it was no longer attached. The garment sagged at a downward angle from her left shoulder.  
  
Another clanking noise.   
  
She froze; her hands gripped her upper arms as she sat quietly, listening. The she heard a voice. Male, from what she gathered. She strained to hear what was being said. She caught a few words: "Slayer", "fire maiden", "Elves" and "Rivendell", but without the rest of the discussion, it meant rather little to her.   
  
As footsteps neared her cell door, she rose to her feet. [This might be your chance to get the hell out of here,] she thought. Her eyes darted from the door to the window a few times. [Anything's worth a shot at this point.]   
  
She jerked slightly when the cell door rattled. Someone was coming in. Quickly, she bounded across the small room, positioned herself by the door so whoever came in couldn't see her until it was too late.  
  
The locks turned, the door creaked loudly on its hinges as it swung open and a tall, bulky human shaped shadow was cast into the cell as a result of the candlelit passageway. Buffy watched the shadow draw further into the room; she kept her cool until the person was totally inside.  
  
[NOW!]  
  
She leaped onto the back of the black clad figure, threw one arm around his neck and put him into a Slayer-strength backed headlock. Gritting her teeth, she secured her legs around him, refusing to let go and her grip around his neck tightened when he pried at her arm.  
  
"You jerks aren't keeping me here any longer!" she hissed into the ear of her struggling captor. She fought to stay on his back as he whipped around violently, still working to free himself from her arm. "Give up! I'm getting out of here. Don't make me do something I don't want to!"  
  
She hoped he wouldn't call her bluff. As much as she wanted to escape Mordor and Sauron, she refused to take a human life in order to do so. Buffy gasped as the man backpedaled like crazy. She tried to stop what he intended to do but it was too late. She was smashed between the wall and the body mass of her opponent. The wind was sufficiently knocked out of her, her arms loosened their grip and she groaned as she slipped down from his back.  
  
[Stupid move,] she scolded herself.  
  
She leaned against the wall for support then felt her body jerked away from it. It took her a moment to realize the man had thrown her onto the cold, hard floor. She lay there, taking short breaths, and then she pushed herself up from the floor and blinked a few times.   
  
"Bastard," she grumbled, putting her hand to her left side. She winced as a sharp pain stabbed through her. [Great - broken rib. Or fractured, at the very least.] Her head lifted, her eyes narrowed to slits at the man who loomed a few feet in front of her. "You didn't have enough fun kidnapping me, so now you have to break my ribs too?"  
  
The figure stepped forward, the light shifting so it vaguely illuminated his face. "You, Slayer," growled the human in an icy tone. "Brought this agony upon yourself. But it is the fate of your accursed kind - to bring pain to yourself and those around you. Isn't it?"  
  
"I'm about to bring you some freakin' pain -" Buffy angrily began as she tilted her head back to look the man in the eye. She stopped mid-sentence and a look of horrified surprise crossed her features. Her jaw slowly dropped open and chills shivered down her spine. "I ... I ... "  
  
Everything single thing about him was identical - the dark hair, the pale complexion and even the eyes - eyes filled with such anger and pain. But his eyes held another emotion within them - one of unadulterated hatred.  
  
[It can't be ... there's no way!] She shook her head slowly then sat back, unable to process it. [It just can't be. There's no way he's -]  
  
"Angel?" she asked in a whisper. She never took her eyes off of him, even as he came closer, glaring at her with that loathing stare. He was ... so similar. "Is ... is that you?"  
  
She didn't know what possessed her to ask such a stupid question. Maybe it was the shock of the man's appearance and resemblance to Angel or the fact she'd been slowly losing her mind since she was thrown into that cell and pretty much abandoned. Or, maybe, it was because of that voice she sometimes heard - the one that urged her to never give up hope.  
  
"Angel?" he repeated. An amused expression replaced his one of annoyance as he gently massaged his neck where Buffy nearly strangled him to death. He crouched down in front of her, his face so much more clear to her now, and a small smile crossed his lips. "You'll find none of their kind in this place, Slayer."  
  
Buffy swallowed, her physical ailments temporarily forgotten, and she managed to find her voice once more. "I didn't mean that -" she began, her tone very subdued now.  
  
[God, Buffy, why are you talking like you're friends with this jerk? This isn't Angel!]  
  
"Well, then, Slayer -" The word 'Slayer' rolled off the man's tongue as though it bore a bad taste. " - what did you mean?" He raised an eyebrow, curious for her response.  
  
She cleared her throat then looked away. "It's ... nothing. I didn't anything by it," she quietly told him. "It was somebody I used to know. He's not around anymore."  
  
The man snorted softly. "No doubt this ... Angel is no longer around because of what you are." He paused when Buffy's head snapped up and she glared at him. "So it is true then? It doesn't come as a surprise to me. You cause only misery in the lives you touch."  
  
"Hey, look here, buddy, you don't know the first thing about what happened with Angel, so you can just shut your trap about that," Buffy snarled. She pushed herself to her knees, wincing momentarily at the pain. "And what the hell would you know about my being a Slayer anyway? Do I know you? Do you know me? NO."  
  
He rose, slowly, to his feet but did not take his eyes off of Buffy. Something in them had changed, she noticed, after she'd said that. If it were even possible, they'd become even more hate full than before. "I possess all the knowledge I need about you and your kind, Slayer," he said. He sounded as though he worked to retain his control.  
  
"I'll tell you what you need, jerk," she replied as she, too, stood up. It was a chore. She had to pause on the way up until a wave of pain passed then she was upright. "You need to find yourself a new bad guy to work for. Because your beloved Sauron?" She smirked. "He's going to get his ass kicked, metaphorically speaking, and none of you pathetic creeps can stop it."  
  
He stared at Buffy for a long minute, a brief flash of what she would've called 'pity' crossed his face then he said, softly, "That was her mistake as well."  
  
Buffy's brow furrowed. [Her mistake? Whose mistake? What the hell is he talking about?] "Mistake? It's not a mistake, moron. I know for a fact that this little world domination scheme doesn't pan out for ol' One Eye. Don't you idiots remember WHERE you kidnapped me from?" She rolled her eyes.  
  
The small smile returned to his face. "Yes, I do remember. And you must know this, Slayer, you are no longer in your present ... but in your past." He began to circle the small blonde, looking her over as if sizing her up. "Your present is OUR future." His smile turned wicked and his resemblance to Angelus had increased. "Our future, woman, is not etched in stone. Our future can be altered and that is what my Lord intends to do."  
  
Buffy eyed him suspiciously as he came to a stop in front of her. "What does he 'intend' to do by kidnapping me?" she asked, gesturing to herself. "I'm failing to see the intention here. What can he change in my 'present' - " She made air quotes with her fingers " - by bringing me to yours?"  
  
The evil grin remained on his lips. "You should give this matter more thought, Slayer. Perhaps then you will have your answer." He turned a bit then called out something in a foreign tongue and two Orc bearing shackles and chains entered the cell. He faced Buffy. "I regret the arrangement has come to this," he said as the two Orcs snapped the shackles around her wrists and ankles. "However, you brought it upon yourself."  
  
Buffy pushed one of the Orcs back when he finished securing her wrists. She shot the man a glare. "Pardon me for wanting to escape," she snapped. She watched as the chains were fastened to metal loops in the walls. Once that was finished, the two Orcs left.  
  
"You shouldn't waste your energy," he said as Buffy tugged at the chains. He chuckled lightly when she finally gave up then he closed the distance between himself and Buffy. His voice was a whisper now. "I am very familiar with the Slayer." He glanced down at her then met her angry gaze again. "And where would you go if you did manage to free yourself?"  
  
"Well, first, I'd go find the local supermarket and buy you some Tic Tacs," she replied. She rolled her eyes and made a face. "I don't know what's worse - your breath or being stuck in here. At this point, I'm leaning towards the former."  
  
"You conceal your fear very well," he said after a few moments of gazing at Buffy. He leaned closer, a glimmer in his eyes. "Soon, you will be unable to do anything but scream, Slayer."  
  
Buffy exaggerated a yawn as she rolled her eyes. "Heard it," she replied in a bored tone. "You guys threaten a lot but I never see any action. And I have a name. It's not 'Slayer'; it's Buffy. What should I call you besides a plethora of colorful metaphors?"  
  
The man stepped closer, half of his face in shadow, the other half in light. A hand rested gently on Buffy's cheek and he leaned in even closer to her. For a brief moment, she thought he intended to kiss her. Not so.  
  
"Melek. In time, it will be a name you'll wish you'd never heard ... Buffy," he softly said.  
  
For the first time since she'd laid eyes on this Melek, she was truly rattled by him. She swallowed hard and kept her cool the best she could. She knew that hatred in his eyes - she'd seen it before. One who'd been wronged and sought a violent revenge. Wisely, she kept her mouth shut as Melek backed away, eyes still on her with that creepy gaze. After a few seconds, he turned, left the cell and slammed the door closed behind him.  
  
"God ..." she sighed as she leaned back against the wall, sagging a bit as she closed her eyes. [You're in a real fix, Buffy.] she thought as she opened her eyes and looked up at her chained wrists. [A real fix, indeed.]  
  
-  
  
End Chapter Five.   
  
To Be Continued ... 


	6. Sins of the Past

Chapter Six - "Sins of the Past"  
  
-  
  
"Willow ... Willow, please, help me!"  
  
"Buffy?" Willow called out as she stumbled through the darkness. It blanketed everything so thoroughly, the young witch had no idea where she was let alone where Buffy could be out there. She reached her hands out in front of her, feeling for anything. "Buffy! Where are you? Keep talking! I'll find you!"  
  
"Willow ... help me!" Buffy's voice called back from the darkness. She sounded so close to Willow but so far away. "I can't take it anymore! The pain! Willow!"  
  
Willow sighed in frustration. Finally she came to a stop when she felt something. "Buffy?" she asked, hesitantly. It felt like a human figure - it was definitely warm. "Buffy, is that you?" [Dammit. Where is all the light? I can't see!] "Just a second ... lemme do something ..."  
  
"Willow ..." the groan of the Slayer made Willow's heart sink. Buffy sounded awful. [This is your fault. You knew for weeks that Sauron planned to do something, Willow, and you never once mentioned it. You should've said something. Buffy could've been prepared. This is your fault.] "It hurts. I can't ... I can't see anything."  
  
"I can't either, Buffy. Just ... wait ... " Willow held up a hand, palm upward, then she concentrated on the spell. "Quel edonna almedia luminosa!" A small, controlled flame appeared in the palm of Willow's hand. [Oh, good, it worked.] She raised up the flame to check on Buffy. "Buffy, it's all right. I'm -" A gasp cut off her words and she backpedaled. "What ... what do you want?"  
  
It wasn't Buffy she'd found. It was Sauron. But he wasn't in his Lidless Eye form, either. He was back in the harmless, innocent form of Frodo Baggins. The small 'Hobbit' matched her steps backwards as he reached out a hand towards Willow.  
  
"Stop running, Willow. You will not be able to resist for long," 'Frodo' informed her. There was a dull glow about him - the power of Sauron resonating within, she figured. "Come. Come to where you belong before it is too late."  
  
Willow shook her head. "No. I'll never do that. Never. I don't belong with you!" She continued to back away but 'Frodo' only followed, showing no distress at all with Willow's refusal. Deep inside, a small part of her wanted to accept his outstretched hand. She'd known great power through the lesser ring, and Sauron offered her that power again.  
  
"Should I offer you something in return?" 'Frodo' asked, bright blue eyes seeming to hypnotize her as he spoke. His hand lowered a little. "Trade yourself for your Slayer friend. Come to Mordor, Willow. Come ... and I will release her and send all of your friends back to the future." He closed the remaining distance between them and, slowly, the hand offered itself to her.  
  
[You can't do it, Willow. No.] She swallowed hard, sweating as she considered what Sauron offered her. It was so simple. Save Buffy with no danger to Giles or Xander or anyone else. But would Sauron keep his promise? She couldn't help but believe him, especially when he wore the guise of pure little Frodo.   
  
"I promise you, Willow, I shall do all that I say I will." His fingers almost touched her hand with the dancing flame, the only light illuminating everything in this strange place. "Save your friends from misery, think of someone other than yourself."  
  
Her other hand reached out to take 'Frodo's'. [Do it, Willow. What have you got to lose? Nothing. You caused all this. It's time to make things right.] She was about to accept the hand but was startled by Xander's voice.  
  
"Willow? Hey, Wills. Get up!"   
  
'Frodo' vanished as did the darkness around her as Willow opened her eyes. "Huh ... what?" she murmured as she looked through bleary eyes at Xander who hovered over her. She shielded her eyes from the bright sunlight streaming into her room. "What is it?" she asked. "Xander?"  
  
Xander just stared down at her, a suspicious gaze in his eyes. He noticed the sweat beaded on her skin, the expression on her face once she realized how HE looked at her - it was almost as if she were guilty of something. "You have a bad dream? You were making a lot of noise a few minutes ago. I came in to check on you."  
  
Willow sat up in the bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. The last two weeks had been long ones. The planning for the trip to Mordor took longer than anyone, especially Xander and Willow, had expected it to. Every time one of them inquired about when they would leave, they received the standard answer: "When the time is right." Also, they heard a lot of whispering about something extremely important. She never did catch the exact thing - but she had a feeling she knew what it was.  
  
She blinked a few times then focused on Xander. "I'm ... I'm okay now. It's morning already?" She turned away from him, her attention on the windows that gave her a fabulous view of the Elven city.   
  
"More like afternoon. You've been sleeping a lot lately, Willow," he said. He sat down on the bed, eyes never leaving the back of her head as he spoke. "Are you sure you're all right? You kept moaning something in your sleep. And ... "  
  
"And ...?" she prompted, an eyebrow raising but he couldn't see it. [How much did he hear?] she wondered.   
  
"And ... nothing," he replied, thinking twice about mentioning the other thing. She kept rubbing her ring finger, too, while speaking in that ... that weird language. It terrified him. What if Sauron was getting his hold back on Willow even if she didn't have a ring? She was dangerous enough the first time, nearly causing the death of everyone more than once. He decided to keep an eye on her. "Are you ... hungry or anything?"  
  
She shook her head. "No, thanks. I'm too wound up to eat, anyway," she answered. Her head bowed and she stared at her bare ring finger. Flashes of the day she confronted Sauron in his Lidless Eye visage filled her mind. She'd never dealt with the guilt of her stupidity, how naïve she'd been, and it almost destroyed her and everyone around her.   
  
Xander watched her for another long moment. "Come on, you've been cooped up in this room being anti-social long enough," he told her. He patted her shoulder then gestured when she looked back at him. "Let's move it, Rosenberg."   
  
The last time Willow became so withdrawn Sauron had been sinking his claws into her. He wouldn't let it happen again. Whatever she dreamed about, he would make sure it didn't hurt her or anyone else. He'd had enough of Sauron causing pain to him and his friends. When he finally marched into Mordor, he'd face that big Eyeball and give him a damn good fight.   
  
Willow didn't attempt to argue with Xander. She wouldn't win anyway. Besides, she didn't want to be alone, not after that dream. The more real things became in her dreamscape, the more concerned the witch was. She and Sauron were so connected after a few months he began to appear to her outside of her dreams. Of course it was in the form of Bilbo and Frodo Baggins, but that was beside the point.  
  
The two of them silently left Willow's room and headed down one of the corridors of Elrond's Rivendell home. Willow folded her arms across her chest, sniffing a few times as she lowered her gaze to the floor. She let herself become hypnotized by it, so much that she didn't see the person standing just around the corner as she and Xander made a left.   
  
"Oh! I'm sorry!" Willow said, even though she'd just barely managed to avoid bumping into him. Mostly due to his smooth sidestep - it was, she realized, nearly impossible for an Elf to get caught off guard.  
  
The Elf merely shrugged. "No need to," he replied coolly and began to move around Xander and Willow. Then he stopped and looked more closely at the young redhead for a second before saying "Good day to you," and vanishing down the hallway.  
  
"Huh. That's Elves for ya, I guess," Xander muttered.  
  
"Yeah," Willow replied. She'd seen that Elf wandering around Rivendell, often in the company of Aragorn and Elrond's two sons, ever since they'd arrived. He seemed a bit different than the local Elves, somehow, but she had no idea why that was. Maybe he was from another tribe or country or whatever Elves had. [More questions I should ask Giles,] she thought. He hadn't known the last time they were all in Middle-earth, of course, and they hadn't thought to ask Elenya. And nobody had a clue back in the 20th century.  
  
[Yeah, ask Giles. But why was he looking at me like that? Does everyone around here know about... what happened?] Elrond's words 'the taint' came back to her mind and she cringed. Even the Elves would never forget what she had done.   
  
Not the Elves and not Sauron.  
  
[So why are you running right back towards him?]   
  
" - ever figure them out?" Xander was asking, Willow suddenly realized, and waiting for an answer.  
  
"Huh? Uh, no. Maybe," she stammered. "Let's get some food, okay?"  
  
"Right..." Xander eyed Willow for a second then nodded. "Okay. Food," he said, desperately hoping his sudden worry wasn't reflected in his voice.  
  
-  
  
End Chapter Six.  
  
To Be Continued ... 


	7. On The Road Again

Chapter Seven - "On The Road Again"  
  
-  
  
Three days after the little council, Willow and Xander's patience had run out. They sought out Giles, and found him and Elenya in the small garden next to their bedchamber.   
  
"Willow, Xander," Giles said, turning away from Elenya with a familiar expression upon his face - one that read "Come back later," but they weren't playing along this time.  
  
"All right, what's the deal?" Xander asked, staring Giles down. "You haven't said ten words to us since the big meeting the other day. And everyone else keeps clamming up whenever we show up. What's up?"  
  
"Xander, this isn't - "  
  
Xander shook his head. "Heard it already. But - "  
  
"But nothing, Xander!" Giles snapped angrily. "I'm trying to say goodbye to Elenya - "  
  
"Goodbye? What?"  
  
" - and you barge in, as always, without a thought for anybody but yourself - "  
  
All talking stopped, and even the birds ceased their happy chirping.  
  
"Excuse me?" Xander finally asked in a low voice.  
  
"Xander, I didn't..." Giles shook his head. "I'm sorry."  
  
"What did you mean, saying goodbye to Elenya?" Willow asked for the second time, not least to prevent things from getting any chillier between the two men.  
  
Elenya smiled grimly and adjusted the green baldric hanging low on her hip. For the first time, Xander and Willow noticed she was carrying her sword, and that a great gray cloak, along with a heavy backpack, was laid out on a bench at her side.  
  
"I've had a dream these last few nights. The growing Shadow is stirring up an ancient evil in the north. Burning eyes and bright flame..." For a second, she hesitated, her eyes clouded, but then she smiled again. "I must face it. I cannot come with you."  
  
Willow stared at the older woman. "Wait - you're going to fight some ancient monster by yourself?"   
  
Elenya shrugged. "What else could I do? Buffy would do the same, were she here," she noted.  
  
"But Giles - "  
  
"Giles... Giles understands what must be done," Elenya said, turning back to the doorway once again. "No matter how painful it may be."  
  
"Elenya - "  
  
The Slayer shook her head. "Not now, please, Willow," she said.   
  
"I'm sorry." Willow caught Xander's eye and nodded back the way they'd come. "We'll, uh..."  
  
"Yeah, we'll - "  
  
But Elenya was already heading inside to join Giles. Willow and Xander stood there for a moment then retreated out of the garden without another word.  
  
-  
  
Much to Willow and Xander's relief, the very next morning, they were summoned by Elrond. The time had come for them to depart, if they were to beat the early winter storms that threatened the High Pass over the mountains.  
  
"If you hurry, you will be on the eastern slopes before the first snow falls," Elrond told the three travelers after they had gathered before the gates of Rivendell. Few had come to see them off - Elrond and his three children, Aragorn and Gandalf, and, surprisingly, Bilbo Baggins, bundled up so heavily he was almost as large as a Dwarf.  
  
"And then?" Giles asked absently. His thoughts were on Elenya, who had quietly slipped away after a final farewell earlier in the morn, not the alpine weather or anything else.  
  
"I cannot see where the road will take you once you cross over the mountains. But I would make to the south, towards the realm of Galadriel, and seek out her counsel."   
  
[He knows something,] Willow thought, watching Elrond as another Elf brought forth a mule laden with supplies. [Something about Galadriel.]   
  
She remained silent, though, and smiled politely along with the rest of them as Bilbo issued a somewhat rambling farewell.  
  
"Do watch out for Orcs," the elderly Hobbit concluded. "Beastly things all over the pass... especially in the caves..." Then he trailed off, lost in some distant memory.  
  
"Bilbo is right. The winter will only make the Orcs more bold," Aragorn said. "Do not let down your guard until you reach the eaves of Mirkwood. Beorn's folk still hold their ground there."  
  
"Above all, do *not* sleep in any caves," Gandalf added solemnly.   
  
"Good luck!" Bilbo said with a smile and a wave.   
  
And then they were off again, riding east into the dark.  
  
-  
  
The High Pass was quiet and empty, and bitterly cold even through the heavy cloaks the Elves had provided. No snow had fallen yet, but the clouds were dark and getting darker. The wind seemed to be against the little group, for it pounded them relentlessly from dawn to dusk, day after day.  
  
For a fortnight after leaving Rivendell behind, their only foe was the weather, which was growing steadily harsher the higher they rose into the mountains. When the sun began to set, they set up camp under a large outcrop of rock, and soon had a fire raging.  
  
"Another week, and we'll be in sight of Mirkwood," Giles said as he helped Willow prepare their dinner - stew, as it had been since their second day out of Rivendell.  
  
"Another week? Great," Xander muttered. He stared glumly at the pot containing their supper. "Can't you find us a rabbit or something?" he asked Giles.  
  
"Up here?" Giles asked then shook his head. "I'm sorry, Xander."  
  
"Yeah, well - "  
  
Giles suddenly stood up and hissed "Be quiet!" even as he drew his sword.  
  
"What the - "  
  
"Quiet!" Giles hissed, peering into the wind.   
  
A second later, Xander and Willow heard what had him so anxious - the howl of a wolf, and not all that far off. They both jumped to their feet and Xander tugged his own sword free from its scabbard.  
  
"Here!" Giles grabbed one of the thinner logs from the fire and pressed it into Willow's hand.  
  
"What?"  
  
"They're afraid of fire. Hit them anywhere you can, but don't get too close. They go for the throat," Giles explained.  
  
"Always quick with the comforting word, Giles," Xander snorted. "Should we make a break for it?"  
  
The former Watcher shook his head. "They'd run us down before we'd gone ten yards," he replied. "At least here, we have the fire. With any luck, they won't come near because of it."  
  
There was another howl, this one far closer than the last, and then Willow grabbed Giles by the arm. "There!" she whispered, pointing up the path to their left. A massive gray wolf, almost the size of a pony, was creeping towards them with malice in its yellow eyes. It howled once, and then bared its jagged fangs at them.   
  
"Stay back," Giles cautioned, stepping in front of Willow. He and Elenya had fought Wargs such as this before, and they were brutal beasts, more dangerous than vampires. Xander hesitated only a second before joining him at the front of their little campsite.  
  
The Warg regarded them with unmistakable disdain, finally coming to a halt little more than five feet away from them, its tail hanging out over the mountainside. It eyed them for a few seconds then pounced.  
  
Giles and Xander jumped in opposite directions, and the Warg flew between them, landing right next to Willow. She screamed and scrambled backwards, hurrying to put the campfire between herself and the slavering beast.  
  
Cursing, Giles spun around and slashed at the Warg's hind with his sword. The beast howled and jumped away from the blade, but began to dash around the campfire instead of turning to face Giles. Two quick steps and it was face to face with her. She began to stammer out a spell, but it was too late. The Warg snarled triumphantly and jumped at her. The redhead shrieked, then vanished under the gray-black creature.  
  
"Willow!" Xander cried. He started to charge the Warg, but Giles pulled him back and tossed him aside.   
  
The Englishman gritted his teeth and swung his sword at the Warg's spine with all his might. Steel cut flesh and the Warg howled once, then went limp. Giles tossed his sword aside.   
  
"Help me!" he snapped even as he began to grab the dead Warg's neck and pull it off of Willow.  
  
The two of them managed to haul the corpse off of Willow, a task made much easier when it began to dissolve as they did so. In seconds, nothing was left of the Warg but a desiccated hide.   
  
"Wha?" Xander blurted out.  
  
"Like vampires," Giles replied. He tossed the filth-encrusted hide off to the side, where it soon vanished entirely in the sunlight. Of far more concern was Willow, who was pale and motionless.  
  
"Oh, God! Willow! Is she - "  
  
"Just unconscious," Giles quickly assured him. "Here, let's get her a bit closer to the fire."  
  
They gently carried Willow to the side of the fire, miraculously untouched by the Warg attack, and she was soon slowly beginning to wake.  
  
Giles left the two alone and went to keep watch on the path in case another Warg happened upon them.  
  
He wondered if either of the others had noticed the Warg had gone straight for Willow.  
-  
  
End Chapter Seven  
  
More to come! 


	8. The Offering

Chapter 8 - "The Offering"  
  
-  
  
"Buffy ... keep hope alive ... you must ..."  
  
Buffy's eyes drifted open. She lay on her back, staring up at the black ceiling of her small cell. Blinking, she'd begun to believe she'd lost her mind - the voice was almost constantly speaking to her. And she didn't know who it was. She sighed heavily as she sat up then looked around.  
  
"Well ... I can rule out this being a nightmare," she muttered. She frowned as she looked down to her shackled wrists. It'd been a few weeks since her disturbing encounter with Melek. Since then, no one had been to see her, much to Buffy's relief.  
  
Shaken was a gentle way of putting what she was after her talk with her human captor. Not only did Melek look like Angel, he acted like Angelus. Despite all rationality, she couldn't help but think of Angel when she thought of Melek and whether or not it would hurt her remained to be seen.  
  
Buffy's head lifted when she heard heavy footsteps, a single being was approaching the cell door. She swallowed hard, her muscles tensed in anticipation and she prepared herself for whatever would come through it. The door creaked open, allowing what little light there was in the Tower into the cell.  
  
She didn't need to be told who had entered.  
  
"You're awake," said Melek as he stepped further into the cell. "This is good." He smiled a little as he neared Buffy. "You save me the trouble of rousing you."  
  
"Well ... anything I can do to make your keeping me in captivity easier," she replied with a faux smile. She heard a chuckle from him. Then she noticed he carried something in his hands. Not a weapon, at least, not at her first glance did it appear so. "Whatcha got?"  
  
Melek crouched down in front of her, the item, which turned out to be a neatly folded garment of some kind, was balanced in his hands. "This is a gift. From my Lord." He placed the black square on the floor in front of her. "It is only ... appropriate," he went on as he freed her wrists from the shackles. "Considering who and what you are."  
  
Buffy raised an eyebrow as she massaged her wrists to restore the blood flow. "Appropriate, huh?"  
  
He stood up as Buffy gathered up the garment from the floor. "Yes. Extremely fitting for a young woman of your status ... Slayer."  
  
Buffy unfurled the "gift" and a puzzled expression crossed her face. "It's ... it's a black dress." An elegant one, too, not unlike what the Elves had provided her with in Rivendell but this was much more ... sinister in nature.   
  
Melek's eyes glimmered as he watched her take in the beautiful piece of clothing.   
  
She looked up at him. "You shouldn't have," she added as she threw it at his feet then glared at him. "And, I'm sorry, but it's not my style. Tell your Eyeball thanks anyway. It wouldn't be ... appropriate for me to accept a gift from the enemy. I read it in the Good Guy Rule Book."  
  
"The Enemy? Is that what you think I am, Buffy?" he asked, his voice calm as he crouched down in front of her once more. He picked up the dress, his fingers gently massaging the material as he gazed into her eyes. "I am not your enemy. Neither is Lord Sauron. You must understand this."  
  
Buffy snorted as she stopped rubbing her right wrist. "Oh? He's not my enemy? He kidnaps my from my home, tries to kill my mother then holds me hostage. And let's not even go into what happened the last time I was in town." Her hatred of Sauron would never ebb, not after what he'd done to Willow.  
  
Melek only smiled then tilted his head to one side. "That is not what I mean, Buffy, and you know it." His smile grew wider when she stared back at him, clueless.  
  
"I don't know what the hell you're talking about, pal," she snapped. "Unless you're going to torture me then I suggest you get out. You're starting to piss me off."   
  
"I can help you, Buffy. I can free you from this prison." He gestured to the cell with his free hand. "If you'll allow me to, that is."  
  
Her eyes narrowed at him. "What kind of game is this? Over a month ago you wanted to torture me until I screamed. Now you're bringing me fancy clothes and wanting to help me?" She scoffed in disgust. "Please. I was not born yesterday."  
  
"You do not understand. It isn't me; it is my Lord and master. The one who will soon rule this land." He looked over the young Slayer - she was filthy, malnourished and her eyes were bleary and bloodshot from a lack of proper sleep. "One would think that by now you would realize your friends and allies have no care for you. You must embrace your true ally, Buffy." He extended a hand towards her and she automatically recoiled. "I know all about you."  
  
"You keep saying that! You don't know me!" she exclaimed as she shoved his hand back. [Why does he have to look like him?] she thought. Her eyes closed for a moment as she leaned against the wall for support once again. [Where is everyone? Willow? Xander? Giles? Where are you?] "What could you possibly know about me?" she tiredly asked.  
  
Melek stood as well. "Lord Sauron knows you," he coolly answered. A finger touched her dirty chin and tilted it up, so she looked him in the eyes. "He was there the day the Valar created your kind. The day they brought forth the Chosen One from the primordial muck - the Slayer."  
  
Buffy stared at him - surprised, mostly, but she found herself wondering how much of what he said was truth. If any of it was. Was he lying? Was it just a bunch of BS? Did he really know anything about the origin of the Slayer? Not even Giles talked about that. Perhaps he didn't know the story, maybe no one did.  
  
"Who are the Valar?" she asked in a quiet voice, trying to keep any curiosity in her tone to a minimum.   
  
"The Powers. The gods. Gods who hide now, afraid of the power growing in this very land." He leaned a little closer. "Let me free you from this cell, Buffy, and I shall tell you what you really are. You will then understand why you are not so different from Lord Sauron."  
  
He was offering her a way out of the cell and her shackles. If she didn't get out of that cell somehow she'd never escape. What would it hurt? Listen to his story then bolt when they least expected it.   
  
She looked deep into the eyes of her captor and replied, quietly, "Tell me."  
  
Melek only smiled in return.  
  
-  
  
End Chapter 8.  
  
FF.net finally got its act together. I will be posting more soon. I hope everyone's still enjoying the story. Here's hoping the site remains stable! 


	9. Who's Afraid of the Big, Bad Wolf?

Chapter 9 - "Who's Afraid of the Big, Bad Wolf?"  
  
-  
  
It was, at first glance, a thoroughly ordinary seeming homestead. There was a large farmhouse, a larger barn and a pair of sheds, all enclosed by a sturdy stone fence. It was nothing Willow, Xander and Giles hadn't run across a half dozen times on their way south through the borders of Mirkwood.  
  
But, unlike all the other farms they'd seen, this one bore unmistakable signs of violence. The main gate was smashed and lying in pieces, and there were arrows scattered here and there in the clearing cut all around the farm.  
  
"No bodies... maybe it was just a bear or something?" Willow speculated as they cautiously approached the fence.  
  
"Where's the bear, then? Or the people?" Xander pointed out.  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Please, be quiet, both of you," Giles whispered. They'd come out of the trees with their weapons sheathed, to avoid giving offense or, more likely, receiving attack, but now he drew his sword and stepped over what was left of the gate. After a few paces, he turned back towards the others. "Willow, come with me. Xander, stay here, please, and watch the trees."  
  
"What? They're not - oh." Xander nodded and leaned back against the fence, sword drawn and ready.  
  
It was a short distance from the gate to the farmhouse, and Willow spent every step worrying about suddenly being riddled with arrows. Finally, though, they reached the front door. It too had been smashed, but was still mostly intact. There were, however, long claw marks all over the top half.  
  
"Wolves?" Willow asked in a whisper.  
  
Giles shook his head. "Too high for wolves, unless they reared up..."  
  
"Orcs, then?"  
  
"Orcs don't have that sort of claws," Giles pointed out. He motioned for her to be quiet, then quickly kicked the door in and jumped back lest anybody hidden inside attack.  
  
There was no one inside, and very nearly nothing. The furniture had been smashed to bits and lay in a great arc all around the door.  
  
"A barricade," Giles noted, kicking aside the broken remains of a wooden table. It was stained red with blood. He paused, listened, and then relaxed slightly. "I don't think whoever did this is still here. Not during the day."  
  
"Who could have...?" Willow asked as she looked around what had once been a tidy and prosperous home. There was a broken sword, its blade snapped in three pieces, near the doorway to the kitchen, but no other sign of what had happened to the occupants.  
  
"Ah!"   
  
Willow jumped, and then realized it was Giles' 'eureka!' tone. "What?" she asked, trying to sound calm.  
  
"Here..." Giles pulled back the tattered remnants of a bearskin rug, revealing a leather-bound book. It had a few droplets of dry blood on it, and a long scratch mark down the cover. "The woodsmen in these parts often keep family journals... It *would* be in the old tongue, of course," he muttered in annoyance. "I think I can make out most of it, though. It may shed some light on who was responsible for all this." Giles promptly kicked himself a clear space on the floor and began to flip through the battered text.  
  
While Giles pored over the journal, Willow took advantage of his distraction to slip into the kitchen. It was in just as bad shape as the main room. Willow guessed that the attackers had broken in through the front door first, then forced their way here. And then down into the cellar, she realized, noticing an open trap door near the fireplace.  
  
She glanced back over her shoulder, confirmed that Giles was still engrossed in his translation, and then climbed down through the trap door and down the staircase.  
  
Something was drawing her down there, something more than just curiosity. Willow was afraid of what she would find, but the need to see, to know, overpowered her fear. That made it all the more terrifying, if she had had the time to think about it.  
  
The cellar was cool and dark. A murmured incantation dispelled the darkness, and Willow promptly became sick. A moment later, she rose back to her feet and cast a fearful glance up the stairs, but Giles was nowhere to be seen.  
  
Willow breathed a sigh of relief and turned back towards the cellar. This time, the carnage didn't make her nauseous, but only barely. Refusing to admit what she saw had once been human made it easier to bear, but only ever so little. She picked her way through the remains, working towards the wooden door at the back of the room, then froze and listened. There! The faintest of footsteps. Mentally preparing a fire spell, Willow turned on her heels and flung both her hands out, ready to fry whatever was creeping up behind her.  
  
But the incantation froze in her mouth and all she could croak out was "Oz?"  
  
Then she squeaked as she realized that the beast before her was definitely *not* Oz. Its fur was darker and thicker, and it looked much more like a real wolf than Oz ever had. It was also nearly eight feet tall, and with fangs and claws to match.  
  
She opened her mouth to scream, but, swift as lightning, it covered her mouth and most of her face with a single paw. Willow tried to break free, but its grip was too strong.   
  
"Be still," the gigantic werewolf hissed in a surprisingly soft whisper. "Do not make me tear you open."  
  
Willow nodded frantically and the black wolf slowly relaxed its hold on her face.  
  
"Who are you?" it asked her, peering curiously into her eyes. "You are not one of the farmers."  
  
"No, I - " she stopped when the werewolf thrust its muzzle up against her face and sniffed, once, twice, three times, before drawing back and snarling for a second. Then its fur seemed to shimmer, like a heat mirage, and melted away as the werewolf shrank to a more human size. And in seconds, that was what was left, an ordinary, if cruel-looking, man.  
  
"You have the stink of the Necromancer on you!" he snarled, a mixture of dread and rage upon his face. Then he regained his composure and sneered at Willow. "Did he send you, little girl? Are you all he could spare?"  
  
"He - who - no!" Willow stammered in confusion. He thought that she was one of Sauron's minions? But then what was he?  
  
The werewolf regarded her with unmistakable skepticism. "You lie. I can smell him on your soul. If you are not one of his hunters, are you a slave? How could one such as you escape Dol Guldur? Ten in my pack, and only I remain..." He let out a short, mournful groan.  
  
"I didn't - I don't have anything to do with him!" Willow vehemently protested.  
  
"You lie again. I sat at his feet long enough to know his scent!" Suddenly, a look of horror came over the werewolf's face. "He has his claws in you! Can he see through your eyes? He can... he did..."  
  
He shifted form again, faster than even before, and charged at her in his wolfman guise.  
  
"Ghâshûl!" Willow shrieked as the werewolf leapt at her, fangs bore, and the room suddenly lit up as red fire exploded from her hands. The werewolf howled in agony and clumsily jumped to the side. There was a huge scorch mark on his shoulder and chest where the fire had touched him, and even now it still smoldered.  
  
Then, to Willow's astonishment, he shifted form again, this time becoming a pure wolf, and darted away from her, disappearing into the inky shadows at the edge of the cellar.  
  
When she was sure he had gone, apparently down a tunnel leading to another building, Willow sank down to her and let out a gasping sob just as Giles appeared above.  
  
End Chapter Nine 


	10. Origins

Chapter Ten - "Origins"  
  
-  
  
Barad-dur  
  
-  
  
Decked out in the black dress Melek had delivered to her - the "gift" from Sauron - Buffy quietly followed her human captor through the dim, cold maze of corridors of Sauron's Tower. In addition to being given new clothes, she'd been treated to a bath. The funk of more than a month of isolation in the cell had vanished but not the other telltale signs.  
  
Her eyes were still slightly bloodshot, her skin was almost as pale as a vampire's, and her usually trim physique had suffered as well. So did her Slayer strength. A tussle with a couple of grotesque Orcs when she'd been taken for a bath revealed that little fact to her. She was a regular person now, something she'd always wanted to be since her first Watcher told her she wasn't like everyone else.  
  
Soon, Buffy came to a stop when Melek did; she took in the décor of the place he'd brought her. It wasn't anything amazing. Like everything else in Mordor, it lacked color, sufficient light and exuded a horrible feeling of hopelessness. The mighty torches suspended along the walls cast their eerie glow over the only standing object in the room.  
  
Buffy narrowed her eyes at the structure as Melek stepped aside while gesturing with a hand for her to move forward. She gave him a quick side-glance, noting that smirk which resided now on his face. Her eyes slowly traveled up the black monstrosity. It looked sort of a like a large chair but something about it was ... strange.  
  
"Where are we?" she finally asked, her voice reverberating a little in the cavernous room. She pointed to the chair then added to Melek, "And what's that? I never took Sauron as a tree hugging kind of wanna be world dictator."  
  
"Perhaps you should take a closer look, Slayer. Not everything is as it first seems to the eye," he answered. He took her by the arm and brought her closer to the object. "Behold, the throne of Sauron. The place from which he will rule all of Middle-Earth." He looked down at Buffy, their eyes meeting before he added, "For the rest of eternity."  
  
Buffy lifted her head and concentrated on the throne of Sauron once again. Soon, her eyes adjusted to the torchlight in the room and the chair began to tell its secrets. The eerie glow filtered through the many cracks of the contents of the throne; light that showed her what truly stood before her. Skulls, human skulls, skulls of beings that appeared to be human along with various bones - arms, legs, hands, feet - it all made up Sauron's throne.  
  
"You see, Slayer," Melek said as he saw that she realized what it was fashioned from. "This is what becomes of those who are foolish enough to challenge the Dark Lord. So many have tried. And all have failed." He moved closer to it, his expression one of pure pride and admiration. "And, soon, your friends will become one with it. Well, two of them, at any rate."  
  
Buffy raised an eyebrow at him. "I thought you said my friends didn't have a care for me?" She folded her arms across her chest when Melek turned to her. "Seems to me that you've screwed up your little mind trick you tried to play on me, pal."  
  
"Have I?" He pretended to mull it over then he approached Buffy, leaving only a small space between them as he looked upon her. "You haven't yet discovered the reason why you're here, have you? You didn't heed my advice, then, or else you would have."  
  
She glared at him but found herself becoming lost in his deep, black eyes. It was impossible for her not to at times. "Okay. So I'm not ready for the next round of Jeopardy! Why don't you educate the masses, then? Tell me what Sauron wants with me. My blood? My body? My soul? My declaration of loyalty to him and his pointless cause?"  
  
Melek's hand slipped gently around to the back of her neck then he less than gently jerked her closer. His lips grazed her left ear as he spoke in such a calm, almost seductive, tone. "The world does not revolve around you, Buffy," he explained. "It was never you my master desired to have in his possession. But you, most assuredly, would lure the one whom he truly does desire ... "  
  
Buffy stood in Melek's grasp, petrified. Not of the man but of what he'd told her. [It was never me. Why didn't I figure that out? How could I have been so stupid?] Her eyes closed and her heart sank in her chest. [It's who he wanted the last time. The "fire maiden". He wants Willow.]  
  
The pieces fell together. The night she was taken, it never struck her how Xander and Willow miraculously arrived in time to see her kidnapping. Sauron had a plan and he made it happen. He wanted to draw Willow to Mordor and turn her to his side.   
  
"Your silence suggests one of two things: you understand or that you do not," Melek murmured. "Do you understand?"  
  
Buffy pressed her lips together as tears welled up in her eyes. She sniffled but resolved to not cry, especially not in front of him. "Yes, I understand now," she whispered.  
  
He smiled then placed an emotionless kiss to the side of her neck. "Good."  
  
She shoved him back with all the Slayer strength she could summon. "That doesn't mean I'm going to let it happen, though, jerkoff," she snarled. "A friend of mine won't fall into Sauron's hands. I won't allow it."  
  
He laughed, truly amused at her. "The greatest of Elves have faced my Lord and failed. What makes you think you'll succeed where they could not?"  
  
"Those Elves weren't me," she evenly replied. Her gaze narrowed hard on him. "I'm the Slayer."  
  
"Oh yes! That you are!" He clasped his hands together, almost like he was happy she'd reminded him of that fact. "The Slayer. What is the Slayer, Buffy? Have you ever given it any pondering, the reason for your very existence? Why the Valar would curse the world with a creature such as yourself?"  
  
"Curse?" Buffy stepped back from him. "What do you mean by that? And, yes, I know why I'm here. It isn't a curse. Into every generation there is born a Slayer. She is the Chosen One -" Buffy was cut off by Melek's laughter. "What is so funny about that? I'm here to fight creeps like your Dark Lord Sauron. And, when I need to, jerks like you."  
  
"Is that the story your so-called Watcher told you, Buffy?" he asked, still chuckling as he approached her once again. "Is that a pretty poem he created to mask what you really are?" He seized her by both wrists to stop her from backing away. "What evil you carry inside of you? The evil that is as much a part of you as the ... "good"?"  
  
"Let go!" she hissed as she tried to wriggle out of his grasp. It was useless. Sauron had kept her weak for this very reason. Control. She gasped when Melek slammed her up against the base of the throne.  
  
"It survives through her bloodline, the evil of the first," he continued, his eyes locked with Buffy. His body kept her pinned in place. "It trickled throughout Middle-Earth as though it were a plague. A plague, Slayer. That's what you are, a plague that spreads a darkness over the innocent. I suppose I cannot place the blame upon you solely. In ways, you are a victim of your own lineage."  
  
Buffy's mind races as Melek's rapid fired all of this information at her while he applied pressure to her, almost smashing the very life out of her. He was clearly incensed by it on a personal level.  
  
"My lineage?" she gasped. Her eyes met his once more. That hatred and the pain of being unjustly wronged had returned to them. She always thought of Faith - she had the same look in her eyes when she and Buffy confronted one another on that rooftop. It seemed like a million years ago now.  
  
"The disease of the First travels through her progeny, her female progeny, so by that grace I was spared the poison of that curse." He loosened his grip on the blonde as he regained control over his rage. "It was the decision of the Valar when they created her."  
  
She stared at him, dumbfounded. If what he said was true, then Slayers were sisters in more than just terminology. And if it were true, then why had no Watcher come for her mother? Why had Joyce not been called? Why was Buffy the lucky one to be tapped after the death of the Slayer before her? Or perhaps her mother wasn't the direct descendant of the First. No, Joyce had to be. Melek said it only passed to the female progeny.  
  
Then another revelation struck her. Melek has said he'd been 'spared'.  
  
"You had a sister who was a Slayer," she quietly said as she gazed deeper into his eyes. [That explains it - all of it. Why he thinks he knows so much about me. It's because of her.]  
  
"Yes." His voice was strained as he fought for control. The hatred burned in his eyes once more. "The curse reached far beyond the North and into Khand, where my people dwell. We ally ourselves only with Mordor and swear allegiance only to Sauron."  
  
"I know," she murmured. She recalled another man from Khand - Rauko. He was the minion of Sauron who so relentlessly pursued the gang the first time in Middle-Earth.  
  
"Katil, my sister, was as loyal as any other member of my family; we were held in such high regard by own people, and by Lord Sauron. She was unwavering in her loyalty until she awoke one morn and declared Mordor, and all those who served it, as her enemies. She'd been chosen to protect the innocent from Sauron and his evil." Melek swallowed hard. For the first time since Buffy'd met him, she detected sincere pain in his voice. "She left. And disgraced the family name."  
  
Buffy vaguely recollected a story Elenya had told about the Slayer before her, the one who'd visited Elenya in her dreams to tell her who she was. Elenya had said the girl was raised in a land where darkness ruled, but chose to serve as Slayer despite it.  
  
"She had to do it," she told Melek. "It was her duty to accept the responsibility. And I'm sorry your family swore allegiance to the wrong friggin' side and that Katil's decision disgraced you. Life's a bitch. And then you die," she added in a much harsher tone.  
  
Melek yanked Buffy away from the throne then backhanded her so viciously, the Slayer found herself face down on the cold floor with warm blood trickling down her chin. As Buffy propped herself up on her elbows and lifted her head, she saw Melek, a long knife drawn, bearing down on her. She threw up a hand, a futile gesture to ward off a knife-wielding psychotic, and she yelled in pain and fear as he seized her wrist then pulled her to her feet.   
  
As he drew back his knife for the killing blow, Buffy closed her eyes and prepared herself for her fate. It was her time, she guessed. It would also appear to be her only way out of Mordor. Perhaps if she were dead Sauron would never get his claws into Willow.  
  
Melek's knife never reached its intended target. He felt a force seize him by the wrist and he struggled against it.  
  
[I need the Slayer alive,] the chilly, disembodied voice of Sauron echoed in Melek's mind. [She is important yet.]  
  
A moment later, Melek's fingers opened and the knife clattered onto the floor.  
  
Buffy glanced from the knife to Melek who now lowered his arm. What had made him stop? It surely wasn't pity. Definitely not love. She didn't believe the man was capable of the emotion.  
  
[Sauron.] That was the only answer.   
  
Sauron's control over his servants was extremely potent. Simply being out of her cell wouldn't secure her a path to freedom. He knew what thoughts people had in an instant, it seemed. She would have to play her cards a different way.  
  
Melek, frustrated he couldn't deal with the Slayer in the manner he pleased, hurled her against the base of the throne. She "oofed" loudly, her hands grasped tightly to the bones of some poor bastard in order to keep herself upright. She looked over her shoulder, eyes wide and fearful of what this psychopath may try next. The next time, Sauron might not stop him.  
  
[Tell her,] hissed Sauron's voice in Melek's mind. [Tell her the truth about what she is. She may be of use.]  
  
Buffy glanced from Melek to the knife that was evenly spaced between them. [If I get it, what can I do? Kill him? Even so, I won't be able to stroll out of here.] She swallowed hard and met Melek's gaze. The man wiped the back of his hand over his mouth as he glared at her.  
  
She gripped the bones tightly and waited for Melek's next move. What was he waiting for? Was Sauron still in control? Her eyes settled on the knife once more, very briefly. [Kill him, Buffy. It's your only chance. The only way out.] She shook her head and blinked. Now where the hell had that thought come from?  
  
"We'll finish this later," growled Melek finally breaking the silence between them. With that, he left the throne room. A pair of snarling Orcs took up guard positions once he was gone.  
  
And, again, Buffy was alone.  
  
-  
  
End Chapter Ten 


	11. Pressure Points

Chapter Eleven - "Pressure Points"  
  
-  
  
Xander sat on a fallen log, shivering as he pulled his cloak around him, tightly. Giles, in his infinite wisdom, decided on a minimal campfire. It produced sufficient light but barely enough heat. The ex-Watcher had made a side comment about a larger fire attracting the wrong sort.  
  
Rubbing his upper arms, Xander snorted. [The wrong sort,] he thought with a smirk. They had enough trouble so far; no doubt more would find them, so why did they have to freeze until then? He shook his head as he looked back to the small fire.  
  
Buffy was never far from his mind. Wondering what horrific tortures she must be enduring, it nearly drove him crazy. They weren't moving fast enough, in his opinion. It'd taken weeks to get this far, and where were they? Still a long journey from Mordor and the Tower. Why did they have to camp when they could keep going?  
  
Frustrated, Xander threw a rock into the fire, sending glowing embers into the air.  
  
Giles heard the rock hit the fire but he said nothing to Xander. He only adjusted his glasses and focused his attention on the perimeter of their small camp. The incident with the werewolves had increased his awareness and he promised himself to be better prepared. They'd almost lost Willow.  
  
[Willow ... ] he thought with a soft sigh. He turned and search for the girl, and he found she sat away from the small fire, her back to them while she gaze off towards the South - towards Mordor. He was worried about her. Not because of the near death experience she'd had but because of the taint of the lesser ring, and what she might do as a result of it.  
  
In the night, he heard her whimpering in her sleep. Also, she whispered words in the Black Tongue of Mordor. A battle raged inside of the girl and only Willow could determine its resolution.  
  
Giles turned around again. He prayed she would win her battle. If she didn't, he regretted already what he would be forced to do.  
  
Willow shifted her gaze from the Southern sky to the ring Galadriel had given her. Despite the lack of moonlight, it shimmered beautifully. She figured it was some sort of Elven magic. With a sigh, she lifted her gaze back to the night sky.   
  
In the dark, things in Middle-Earth seemed peaceful enough but she knew otherwise. She could feel the Darkness taking the world into a chokehold, and the power behind that Darkness, it became more and more difficult to resist. Since Rivendell, every single night, she dreamed of Buffy in horrible pain, or of Sauron in many forms, and also of a mysterious dark haired female. She usually showed up in the dreams of Buffy yet Willow had no idea who the woman was or what she wanted.  
  
The redhead tucked a lock of hair over her left ear as she sniffled. [This is my entire fault. We never should've come back here. It shouldn't have happened.] She'd never actually said she'd dreamed of Sauron but she had a feeling Giles and Xander were aware. The way they would watch her lately - it was as though she were an ex-con.  
  
"Well?"  
  
She jumped a bit at Xander's voice speaking but she quickly relaxed when he sat down beside her. "Oh, hi," she quietly greeted him as she gave him a side-glance. She noted the pensive expression on his face. "Something wrong?"  
  
Xander rubbed his upper arms again. "It's too cold out here. I figure you and I could share a little body heat," he answered. He scooted closer to her. "Aren't you cold over here all by yourself?"  
  
Willow shrugged. "I hadn't really noticed the cold," she replied. She gave him another side-glance, a little more suspicious of him this time. "What about you? How are you?" [Time to get the subject off me.]  
  
"Besides freezing to death? I'm not good," he told her with a scowl. He glanced over his shoulder at Giles who still kept constant vigil. "Why are we sitting here? We could be moving. I don't get this crap. Giles acts like Buffy isn't even in trouble, Willow."  
  
Willow kept silent. It was best to let Xander vent. He'd been in a grouchy mood since they'd arrived, understandably, but if he didn't get it out of his system, things would become even more complicated.  
  
"Do you think we should be camping?" he asked as he looked back to her. "I'm tired of this. We had horses the last time we were here. Why not now?"  
  
"A lot of things are different this time, Xander," she calmly replied. "There's a war on. These people have their own troubles to deal with."  
  
Xander tilted his head to one side. "How can you be so calm about all of this? Buffy's one of your best friends. Would you be this way if it was me Sauron had instead of her?"  
  
"What good does it do to get upset? It doesn't get us to Mordor any faster."  
  
He blinked. She was so cool about it - not even a pause before she answered. "Well, I can't be calm about it," he stated as he stood up. "And I'm going to say something."  
  
"Xander, wait -" Willow started as he headed for Giles. She frowned and her shoulders slumped as her call went unheeded. Nothing good would come of this, she knew.  
  
Giles looked up when Xander appeared at his side. The young man was visibly upset but that wasn't anything new these days where Xander was concerned. "Yes, what's the trouble?"  
  
"We should keep going," Xander said as he folded his arms across his chest. It was more of an order than a suggestion, though. "We don't have the time to camp."  
  
He stared at Xander for a moment. "Why should we do that?" he finally asked.  
  
"Who knows what Buffy's going through in Mordor? We're out here, with plenty of food, water and freedom and where's she? I want to travel as much as possible."  
  
"It's much too dangerous to travel in the dark, Xander. We've a better chance at avoiding Sauron's forces until the time is right if we camp."  
  
"Oh, really? Well, I don't care about Sauron's forces," he spat back, eyes narrowing at the older man. He saw that look of surprise on Giles's face. [Yeah, it's always a shock when I take a stand, isn't it?] he thought.  
  
Giles rose to his feet, his hands wrapped tightly around his sword handle. He kept a cool tone as he replied, "You should care. We are up against one of the most powerful evils to ever exist in our dimension. Some respect should be paid. It will allow you to live longer, if you do. Now ... sit down."  
  
"NO!" Xander practically shouted back. His tone made Willow nearly jump out of her skin and Giles gazed at him, more stunned than anything. "I won't respect anyone who kidnaps someone I care about. He doesn't deserve anything except a firm ass kicking, Sunnydale style."  
  
"We aren't dealing with a Master or even a Mayor - this is Sauron," Giles said. His voice was no longer calm. He fought to restrain his anger with the younger man. "Second only to Melkor in the realm of Evil and Darkness. You would do well to listen to me on such issues. I know far more about this land than you." He paused to take a quick breath and settle himself. "Sauron's power is unimaginable. He was able to make his way into the future and kidnap Buffy."  
  
Xander's eyes burned into the man, the one who'd claimed to love Buffy Summers like a daughter; the one who'd sworn to his life to protect her. "Well ... whose fault is that?"  
  
Willow, who'd been watching the confrontation from a distance, held her breath as she flicked her gaze from Xander to Giles. Part of her wanted to stop this thing before it became nasty. Another part, however, wanted them to get it all on the table and deal with it. With the way they were acting towards each other lately, if they managed to reach Mordor, they wouldn't succeed in rescuing Buffy.  
  
Giles, after a few moments of silence, asked in a quiet voice, "And just what are you implying? Whose fault is it?"  
  
"You know exactly what I'm implying," Xander shot back as he took a step towards Giles. "You never should've stayed here. You belong in 1999 with the rest of us. But nooooo. You had to stay behind because you had the hots for some chick -"  
  
"Elenya is not a 'chick', and I would appreciate you not referring to her as such," Giles cut in, sharply. "As for where I belong, there isn't a shred of evidence to support your suggestion that Sauron kidnapped Buffy because of me!" He'd cast off his stuffy British demeanor and resembled more the old Ripper they'd met several months before.  
  
"Evidence? EVIDENCE?" Xander threw up his hands and he laughed mirthlessly. He poked Giles in the shoulder with his finger. "You stayed. If we'd have all gone back, what would he need her for?"  
  
"There are a number of reasons, Xander -"  
  
"Like what?"  
  
Giles paused as he searched his memory for possibilities. "The Slayer is useful in a number of -"  
  
"He HAS a Slayer right here, Giles! In this time period!" Xander yelled, pointing a finger at the ground. His eyes were filled with a rage now, a rage that not even Willow had seen before. "This is all your fault, Giles, and you know it! You swore an oath to protect her and you couldn't keep up your end of the goddamn bargain!"  
  
"My end -" Giles cut in as he threw his sword aside, mostly to curb his desire to use it. "YOU promised you would watch over her! You couldn't even do that, could you? No, because ANY responsibility is too much for you. It always has been, ever since the day you entered my sight. You're blaming me for your bloody bumbling!"  
  
"Why, I oughta -" Xander sprung into action. He grabbed the ex-Watcher, an expression of pure hatred firmly in place now. His fingers dug into the man's throat but Giles was already fighting back.   
  
"Xander! Stop!" Willow yelled as she sprinted over to the two now physically brawling. She grabbed one of Xander's arms and pulled with all of her might. [What a time to need a Slayer around!] "Stop it! Both of you! Xander, st -"   
  
Xander lost his grip on Giles's neck when Giles managed to pry the younger man's hand loose, and his elbow rammed right into Willow's mouth. He watched in horror as his friend fell backward onto the ground, her hands covering her mouth.   
  
"Willow ..." he softly said as he looked upon her, such guilt overcoming him.  
  
Willow could feel the warm blood in her mouth and spilling into her hands. She slowly took her hands away then whimpered quietly when she saw how much blood there was. Her eyes shifted up to Xander and Giles, both had forgotten their argument, and gazed at her - ashamed.   
  
"God ..." Giles whispered. Poor Willow's lower lip had been busted open. Blood trickled down her neck and chin, but the girl just stared up at them, as if in some kind of shock. He took a step closer, reaching out a hand. "Willow, are you all right?"  
  
She scrambled back from him while still on the ground. "Just ... stay away," she warned in a low voice. She looked over to Xander. "Both of you," she added when he made a move to help her. "If you two want to kill each other, fine. But don't take me with you." She paused. "Somebody has to get to Mordor to help Buffy."  
  
"Willow -" Xander started as she stumbled to her feet, hand back to her injured lip. He sighed heavily when she waved a dismissive hand at him as she headed back to the other side of the camp where she'd been earlier. His shoulders slumped as he head lowered in shame. [What am I doing? What's going on here?]  
  
Giles plucked up his sword but never took his eyes off Willow who sat with her back to them, tending her wound alone. He closed his eyes, shook his head then opened them. "Sauron's more powerful than I imagined," he quietly said, then looked over to Xander.  
  
"What do you mean?" he asked, his brow furrowing. He glanced at Willow but Giles shook his head.  
  
"No, I don't mean her. I mean us ... " He gestured from Xander to himself.  
  
"Oh." Xander swallowed as he felt his flesh flush. "Yeah. I see what you mean now." He dug his toe into the dirt and wrapped his arms around himself to try to keep warm. He cleared his throat then gave Giles a side look. "You think I should go ... apologize?"  
  
Giles shook his head once more. "I don't suppose she'll want to speak to either of us for the rest of this evening, Xander. I'm not sure I want to deal with myself, either." He sat back down, his back to Xander, and his eyes back to watching the camp perimeter. [What have we done?] he thought as he stared off into the trees.  
  
Slowly, Xander sat back down on his log and rubbed his arms to keep himself warm. After a few minutes, he let his gaze drift over to Willow.   
  
Willow fished out a bottle with some sort of Elven medical potion contained within it. After she dabbed a bit on her wound, it was only a matter of moments before the cut healed. Once she snugly replaced the cork in the bottle and slipped it into her pack, she glanced back at Giles and Xander. They were practically back-to-back, one looking at the fire, the other at the trees.   
  
"Do you now realize how pointless your venture is, Willow?" asked Bilbo Baggins' voice.  
  
She pressed her lips together, trying to pretend that she didn't hear it. [If I ignore it, he'll go away. If I ignore it, he'll go away ... ] she thought as she closed her eyes, tight. When she turned around and opened her eyes, she felt her heart sink as 'Bilbo', fatherly expression on his face, gazed at her. He almost appeared ... sympathetic. If she didn't really know who it was behind the mask, she might've hugged him for support.  
  
"The one with the 'pointless venture' is you. Go away and leave me alone. I'm not going to give in to you. Ever." She folded her arms across her chest and looked away. "Quit wasting your time on me."  
  
"My time is not wasted. You will soon learn that to resist is foolish. The closer you come, Willow, the less you will be able to ignore my presence." 'Bilbo' sat down on the ground beside her, a warm smile on his face. "Come along. I offer you another chance to save your friends, your Slayer ... what have you to lose?"  
  
"Besides my soul?" Willow snorted. "Why do you want me so much? What is it about me that you can't live without?"  
  
"You have power, young Willow. Power that can be cultivated under my tutelage." A hand gently stroked the Wiccan's cheek. "Isn't that what is most important? Power?"  
  
"No. It's not. There are other things. Things you'll never understand." She pulled away from his touch, narrowing her gaze at him. "Friendship, love and loyalty - that's what's important. That's why we're coming for Buffy."  
  
Bilbo smiled again but a sinister glimmer was about his eyes this time. "Yes, Willow. This is what I expected from you. No more, no less." With that, 'Bilbo' faded from her sight.  
  
She sighed heavily, mostly out of relief. Sauron had a point; it was becoming more and more difficult to resist his offers of power. But she found herself a little disturbed by his comment about what she considered to be important. What had he meant by all of that? [I suppose I'll find out soon enough.]  
  
Moving over to her bedroll, she spread it out and snuggled up to rest for the night.  
  
-  
  
End Chapter Eleven 


	12. Meetings in MirkwoodDevil In Disguise

Chapter Twelve - "Meetings In Mirkwood/Devil In Disguise"  
  
-  
  
The next day, they passed over a quiet forest river, a branch of the Anduin that marked the unofficial southern boundary of the Woodsmen's besieged domain. They were now drawing nigh onto the Narrows of Mirkwood, and south of that lay Sauron's citadel of Dol Goldur. Giles would have chosen a safer path, and anything would have been safer than straying across the dark, be shadowed forest, but Buffy's life was at stake. They would have to risk it.  
  
Soon enough, the character of the forest became darker, grimmer. Birds were heard less often, and then mainly the cawing of crows. The animals scurrying around in the shadows had too-bright eyes and too-dark fur, and seemed to be keeping pace with the trio. Worst of all, though, was the deepening shadows. It was as if the Sun above was loathe to even touch southern Mirkwood with her light, or perhaps as if something in the land was keeping the light at bay.  
  
Xander and Willow felt the changed atmosphere and walked along behind Giles in wary silence. Behind them, the nameless border river slowly faded from view and hearing, and they were truly alone in the miserable forest.  
  
For the rest of that day and most of the next, they continued on without encountering anything more suspicious than a rabid badger. Twice they came across wide stone roads, straight despite the contours of the ground, but Giles was vehement they stick to the woods and the others didn't argue. Who knew how often those roads were put to use by Sauron's soldiers?  
  
Towards the evening of their second day in southern Mirkwood, they finally came across those soldiers.  
  
It was Xander who first spotted them while Giles helped Willow across a treacherous gully. "Hey!" he hissed, frantically beckoning them over. The two hurried to his side atop a low hill, then stopped and stared in astonishment. In the little clearing below lay the corpses of some two-dozen Men, all shot full with long arrows. They were all garbed in black and red, and some had apparently had time to draw their curved swords. For what little good it had done them - there was no sign of their attackers beyond the arrows themselves.  
  
"What happened?" Xander asked in a whisper.  
  
"Shh," Giles cautioned him, but it was too late. An arrow landed in the moss between the two of them. "Don't move," Giles said, somewhat unnecessarily. Then, to Xander and Willow's surprise, he smiled and called out a greeting in what sounded a little bit like the Elvish they were used to hearing.  
  
A second later, two Elves clad in green emerged from the shadows barely ten feet away, and a few more at the other side of the clearing. The Elves, who looked more akin to those of Lothlorien than Rivendell, stared warily at the three travelers, bows drawn and blades bared.  
  
Giles held up both his hands and continued speaking in rapid-fire Elvish, once or twice gesturing back at Willow and Xander. Neither of them could make out a single word he said except for what sounded like their names.  
  
Finally, he stopped and lowered his hands after a long reply from one of the Elves. The Elf, tall and with blond hair concealed under his hood, stepped forward.  
  
"These are scouts from the Wood Elf kingdom," Giles explained. "Legolas' kin. They're on a... a long-range patrol, you could call it," he said. That wasn't the half of it, though: patrolling, hunting, scouting, spying, all in one, reckless and perhaps hopeless, but also suicidally brave.   
  
Rather like our own situation, he mused with a resigned half-smile.  
  
"You are not Men of Mordor, or you would lie dead even now," the Elf said, fixing his gaze upon Xander and Willow. "Why are you here?"  
  
"We - " Giles began, but the Elf quickly cut him off with a few words in that strange Elf tongue. The former Watcher nodded in frustration.  
  
Xander and Willow exchanged glances, and by unspoken agreement, Willow took on the role of spokesperson.   
  
"We're heading south," Willow explained. "To..." and here she could not help but lower her voice "to the Black Land."  
  
"Why?" The Elf's expression was grim, but Willow was undaunted.  
  
"To rescue a friend. Buffy Summers, the Champion, the Varyarë. He has her prisoner there."   
  
"Varyarë?" Xander wondered to himself as Willow continued.  
  
"And we're going to find her."  
  
The Elf stared at Willow for a few more seconds, and then smiled faintly. "Your friend said the same, and I do not doubt either of you. Word came from Imladris of your travels, too, but we did not think you would come this way. Do you know what you are marching towards?"  
  
Xander stepped up. "Yeah. We don't care."  
  
"So be it. I think your errand doomed, but it is noble too. Which way will you turn now, though? All Mirkwood will be ablaze soon. The Enemy marches on our lands to the north and aims to conquer all the lands around the Anduin. These stragglers are not even the smallest part of his army. You will not long evade the others, even if you have somehow so far."  
  
"We had hoped to leave the forest and strike out across the plains, and then enter the Black Land from the East," Giles said.  
  
The Elf shook his head. "Speed will not save you. He has watchers in the skies and in the earth. You would never cross all those long leagues without being hunted and caught."  
  
"There must be a way."  
  
"There is!" Xander exclaimed. "You said it yourself, Giles. Back in Rivendell." He pointed at the fallen Mordor soldiers. "We dress up like them and fake our way in."  
  
"It may work," Giles conceded, even if the plan had seemed infinitely more plausible back in the safety of Rivendell. "We don't have any other real choices, at any rate."  
  
"Perhaps." The Elf shrugged and then pointed at two of the dead soldiers. Both had arrows protruding from their foreheads. "They have the least blood, and no damage to their garb. The fit may be wrong, but we can do nothing for it."  
  
"What about Willow? I don't think even the dumbest Orc would buy her as a grunt," Xander pointed out.  
  
"No, but..." The Wood Elf pointed at a small, still form, unmistakably a woman, lying half-hidden under a gray, dead bush. There was an arrow in the back of her head. "One of their witches, a Variag hag, full of black magic and poison. Her curses failed her in the end, though."  
  
Willow paled and gulped, but nodded weakly. "I guess it'll do," she murmured glumly as one of the Elves hauled the dead witch over.  
  
A short while later, all three were ready. Giles and Xander looked passably like Variag warriors, even if they had little idea how to truly wield those long curved blades, and Willow had transformed herself into a near copy of the dead witch - luckily, they were of the same height and build, if not age. She gingerly held the black wooden staff, its brass Eye at the top shorn off, and tried not to think about the fact she was wearing a dead woman's - a very recently dead - woman's clothes.  
  
"Good luck to you three," the lead Elf said as his men began to fade back into the trees. "May the Kindler watch you in the night, and the Heart of Flame in the day." He raised his blade in salute and then he too was gone, vanishing almost instantly.  
  
After a few seconds, Giles cleared his throat. "Onward, then. Daylight is dying."  
  
"Do you really think this is gonna work?" Xander asked a few minutes later, when he was sure, or reasonably so, that the Elves were miles away.  
  
Giles could only shrug. "I speak some Variag, and a little of the Black Speech. Orcs aren't very clever, it should be enough to get us past them."  
  
"Orcs, maybe, but what if we run into some other Variags?" Willow asked, bringing up a point Giles had foolishly hoped she wouldn't notice.  
  
"I don't know, Willow. We have to trust in fate."  
  
"Giles..." Willow rolled her eyes. Trust in fate? That wasn't the Watcher she knew talking. "I can help. I know some speaking glamours. And I can make my face look all old and stuff, too."  
  
"Are you sure it will work?" Giles asked her. He remembered Willow had been quite a talented witch, but the last ten years had soured him on sorcery - the only ones who used it here were all filthy and foul, slaves to the will of Sauron.   
  
"If it doesn't work, are we any worse off?"  
  
To that, Giles had no answer. When they finally made camp for the night, Willow cast her spells. One quite obviously worked, as she suddenly took on the guise of a wizened old hag with two pale, blind eyes.  
  
"Gyah!" Xander exclaimed when he saw what Willow had turned into. "Turn it off."  
  
"Hang on..." She murmured an incantation under her breath and Xander sighed in relief when her usual face shone through the illusion. "Only you and Giles will see me like this now," Willow explained.   
  
"How long will it last?" Giles wondered, a bit of his old professional curiosity resurfacing.  
  
"A lunar month. We should be in - you know - by then, right?"  
  
Giles poked at their tiny campfire for a few seconds before answering. They'd debated it in whispers for much of the afternoon. Xander and Willow were adamant they take the direct route to Mordor now that they were in disguise. Giles, though, had argued it was far wiser to stick to the original plan. It had seemed logical enough in the light of day, such as it was in this shadowy land, but now, with darkness all around them, he couldn't help but think of what Buffy was going through.  
  
"You know we don't have much chance of getting through unnoticed if we try for the Black Gates," he finally told the two teenagers.  
  
"I know."  
  
Giles nodded. They didn't even have to say the 'but...' aloud. All the same, though, he had the sudden irrational fear that taking the direct route would only add to their misery - their misery and, especially irrational now, Elenya's. If he died, how would she -   
  
Slowly, reluctantly, Giles nodded. "You're right. We have no choice."  
  
Willow and Xander smiled, not noticing Giles discomfort. Giles sighed inaudibly and turned his eyes up to the heavens above. The sun had long since set, of course, but the dim gray moon was high in the sky. He finally cracked a smile, remembering the tale Elenya had told him long ago. Tilion and Arien - the Little Boy and the Patient Maiden, as she called them.  
  
"But Tilion was wayward and uncertain in speed, and held not to his appointed path..." Giles stared up at the full moon - the scarred moon as many Rangers and Elves called it - and, even after all these years, found himself amazed that the Man in the Moon was one of the few things to survive the great gap between Middle-earth and modern Earth.   
  
It was, he decided, rather typical that the modern world had lost the heart of the story though. The truth of it, Elenya would say, and could he really argue with that? He'd met those who had dwelt alongside the Powers themselves - Lord Círdan in the Grey Havens, and the Lady Galadriel. Was it so hard to believe the Moon really was the chariot of a god? Perhaps not made from the last dying flower of the great silver Tree, but still the chariot and home of Tilion the Little Boy.  
  
"What's so funny?" Willow asked, cutting into Giles' thoughts.  
  
"Oh, it's nothing. Just a story Elenya once told me," he answered, wrenching his gaze away from the moon.  
  
"What story?"  
  
Giles smiled at the young redhead. "Why don't we sit down? I'll tell you. Might do us all some good."  
  
So he and Willow joined Xander by the fire, and he began with "It is told that after the flight of - he who must not be named."  
  
... and, naturally, was interrupted at that point. "Who's that?"  
  
"Xander, please," Giles said, trying not to lose his patience. It wasn't the young man's fault - he had no idea who the Dark One was. "That is definitely something we can discuss later. When the Sun is shining and we're far away from here."  
  
"But - " Xander began, but he subsided with a single look from Giles. "Okay."  
  
It was only when Giles reached the part of the tale that concerned Melkor's assault upon Tilion that Xander and Willow understood a little of Giles' reluctance.   
  
"So he was the one who smashed up the Moon?" Xander asked. "But you said that Tilion - "  
  
Giles shook his head. "No, the Dark One's attack did little but scar the surface a little. Tilion was the one who... er..."  
  
"Scratched the paint job trying to impress his sweetie?" Xander supplied.  
  
"Ah yes, wonderful metaphor, Xander," Giles said, but with a slight smile. Then he continued long into the night and finally, after many more interruptions, questions, and exclamations, ended with "... and of the many messengers that in after days sailed in the West none came ever to Valinor - save one only: the mightiest mariner of song," long after the moon had vanished along his wayward track.  
  
"Rather fascinating how 'Apollo' is actually a beautiful and valiant virgin-mystic, and 'Diana' is merely a poet who can't keep his mind on the job," Giles noted, and then sighed. Willow and Xander had gone to sleep the instant he'd finished the tale. Perhaps for the best, though. They had a long, long road ahead of them. Or possibly a short road and a violent end ahead...  
  
-  
  
Morning came eventually, a pale sun shining feebly through dark clouds that hung low over the ground, as if trying to deny those below even a glimpse of the heavens above. They set out quietly, somewhat cheered by the faint glimpses of the sun, but the true peril ahead was on all their minds. Until now they had been in, at worst, the borderlands, but now they were marching straight into the heart of Sauron's empire.  
  
Of the three of them, Giles alone had the faintest inkling of what Mordor was like. Willow knew what Sauron was like, and that was perhaps worse, and Xander had an excellent imagination. But against that was their love for Buffy, and that was far stronger than their fear, and carried them through the remaining leagues of Mirkwood.   
  
For a fortnight, they eluded any further contact with Sauron's soldiers, if one didn't count the skittering and chittering beasts as soldiers. The sun became fainter with each passing day, and the mountains of Mordor came into view through the growing gaps between the gray trees.  
  
On the afternoon of the day they finally left the southern eaves of Mirkwood, traveling along a grim gray road lined with broken bones and the unburied filth of Sauron's armies, the three companions finally came face to face with the servants of the Eye. It was just past noon, as best any of them could tell, when sudden cries shattered the eerie silence of the broken plains.  
  
"Wait," Giles said when Willow and Xander turned back towards the still-near trees. Those were the screams of Orcs, not Men or Elves. Another ambush? No, he decided, not here in the open. Not unless all of Sauron's might was a lie.  
  
As soon became apparent, it *was* an ambush in fact. But those being hunted down were Orcs, and so were those pursuing them - Orcs and four tall Trolls in black armor. All of them were drawing closer to the woods along the raised road.   
  
"Maybe now we hide?" Xander suggested after a few seconds. Four Trolls, armed and armored, were not something he wanted to fight with. Even if Buffy had been there with them.  
  
"Too late, they'll have seen us," Giles pointed out. "We may have an opportunity here."  
  
Both groups drew nearer, and now Giles and the others could see that the smaller, fleeing group of Orcs was unlike their pursuers. The prey were short and squat, and their skin was a chalky gray, but those after them were tall and black, like the Orcs of the Misty Mountains, and armed with great steel bows. And in the rear of that group were tall creatures, gray and slablike (although none of the three could tell if it was armor or hide), carrying mauls easily as large as Giles. One blow could snap a man in half, or shatter the spine of a warhorse.  
  
But it was the bows that settled the issue. Even as the gray Orcs came within a few dozen yards of the shelter of the trees, the sky was suddenly black with arrows and all but a handful of the little Orcs fell dead. A few stray arrows landed close by the three travelers, stray or perhaps a warning of sorts.   
  
The few Orcs who survived the first volley let out shrieks of terror, barely above the level of startled beasts, and broke in all directions. None made it far, and the one that tried to stick to the road nearly ran into Giles. Before it could recover, he ran it through with his sword.  
  
"Giles!"  
  
"Quiet!" Giles hissed at Willow without taking his eyes off the Trolls that were now approaching them, their Orcs off to the sides. And now that the Trolls had parted, he could see a figure on a horse behind them, a figure clad in black and crimson robes much like the ones Willow was wearing.  
  
"I do hope your language spell is still working," Giles murmured as he kicked the dead Orc off his sword. The rider, flanked by the four Trolls and the score or so Orcs, slowly approached the small group. Now they could see that a black veil with the red Eye painted upon it, and that his hid his face shield also bore the Eye.  
  
"Hail, old mother!" the rider called out after stopping at a presumably respectful distance from the trio. The Trolls and Orc foot soldiers stayed back a bit farther, but Giles noticed they had moved into a line, ready to sweep in from both sides if need be.  
  
"Hail, young one," Willow replied, a strange rasp in her voice. Another part of the spell, Giles guessed. "You are far from your home," she added, and Giles almost breathed a sigh of relief. She was turning the conversation towards him, just like he'd coached her and Xander.  
  
"As are we all, old mother," the rider pointed out. "These Maggot-Orcs ran fast and far, from the Black Gates to here."  
  
Willow nodded slowly, pretending to consider that bit of information. In truth, she didn't really care what the Orcs were up to; she was only annoyed (and alarmed) they'd crossed paths at all. "They won't run any more," she said after a few seconds, and grinned wickedly.  
  
The mounted Khandling grinned right back at her and caressed the hilt of his sword. "Are you for Mordor?" he asked.  
  
"We are," Willow confirmed, again sticking to the plan they'd agreed upon. "Would you escort us?"  
  
[Willow, no!] Giles thought, resisting the impulse to turn and gape at her. Xander, though, wasn't quite as collected, and gave her a startled look for a second. Luckily, the man from Khand missed it.  
  
"Of course, old mother. Are all your soldiers dead, then?"  
  
"Yes... Elves," Willow said, sneering as she did. "Spies in the woods."  
  
"For all the good it will do them! Their days are numbered." The rider smiled grimly, perhaps imagining a world with no Elves in it. "I am called Yalanci," he informed them when he finally came out of his twisted little reverie. "There's nothing left here. Shall we leave, then, old mother?"   
  
Willow nodded without giving Xander and Giles even a glance.   
  
-  
  
End Chapter 12 


	13. If I Was Only Human

Chapter Thirteen - "If I Was Only Human ... "  
  
-  
  
  
Buffy's eyes opened when she heard the echo of a door slamming. She peeked around the corner of the base of Sauron's throne, her eyes wide and fixated on the only archway in or out of the room. She heard voice as he conversed with the two guards then he entered the throne room.   
  
He appeared much calmer than before - collected. Of course, after nearly two weeks, he certainly must've cooled off. And after spending all of that time alone in the ultra creepy throne room of Sauron, Buffy was relieved to see anyone human even if it was this jerk. At least he didn't have the look of murder in his eyes now.  
  
After taking a few steps into the room, he stopped and called out. "You needn't hide, Buffy. I know you are here. Come out so that we can finish our discussion."  
  
Buffy sighed; her fingers dug into the bony base. She truly feared this man now, and his pleasant, personable demeanor only terrified her more.  
  
"Do not trust what he says," the ghostly voice warned.  
  
The Slayer looked up then narrowed her eyes at the muted darkness above. Was that Sauron? Had he been playing inside of her head since she'd been imprisoned in the Tower, filling her head with words of hope? At this point, she wouldn't put it past him. Angelus could take a few lessons from the Dark Lord.  
  
She climbed to her feet and came around the throne then stopped when she saw Melek. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she remained silent as the man came towards her.  
  
"I see you have not attempted escape," he commented as he circled behind her. "As I told my Lord, in time, you would accept your imprisonment here. The wills of men, as he well knows, are easily broken."  
  
She kept her mouth shut and didn't dare move. He was close to her she could sense his body head but he didn't come close enough to tough her, however.  
  
"Perhaps," his voice whispered in her ear, "you will turn out to be wiser than the rest, Buffy. Perhaps you'll realize you are as much a part of Sauron and his ilk as you are of the cowardly Valar."  
  
She closed her eyes. In her mind, she saw the Eye - the one Willow had spoken of on several occasions - It burned so brightly yet it didn't blind her. Her eyes opened again as she let out a deep breath.  
  
"What do you mean?" she asked, quietly. She waited for a response then pressed him. "You said if I accepted Sauron's gift you'd tell me about the origins of the Slayer. Are you going to or was that just a lie?"  
  
Melek smiled briefly then turned Buffy around so she faced him. He let his gaze travel down her bare shoulders, then her black-sleeved arms and back up to her eyes once more.   
  
"Many years ago, long before Man and Elf ever crossed paths, your kind was created by the Valar. Arien, in particular, had a keen interest in the ... project," he began. His fingers brushed over her arms, but so lightly that Buffy didn't even register his touch. She was more interested in what he had to say.  
  
"And why would this Arien need to create a Slayer?" she inquired. "If these Valar are so powerful, why a Slayer?"  
  
"They had long since abandoned the earthly realm, this land," he explained. "But that isn't important now, it is ancient history. You want to know about the Slayer, not the so-called Powers."  
  
She took a step back, inching away from him and his touch. "So they ditched us - I get it. Why a Slayer?"  
  
"The Elves had not mingled with Men. And Men, as we know, aren't the strongest of beings in our world." A flicker in Melek's eyes made Buffy take another step back. "The Valar had to create a protector - one who could battle the creatures brought forth on this world by Melkor. A warrior to battle his followers and to keep Men ... safe."  
  
"That doesn't sound evil to me," she told him as she backed away while he advanced. She tripped on the long hem of her dress but Melek grabbed her arm and prevented her fall. Her eyes traveled from his hand to his eyes that were affixed to her.  
  
"Some things, Buffy, are not always what they appear to be on the outside," he quietly replied. His grip on her arm tightened. "You of all people should know this fact. One would glance at you and take you for nothing more than a mere maid. Precisely what makes your ... sex the perfect host for the Slayer."   
  
Buffy went rigid as his other hand brushed a loose wisp of hair away from her face. "All I really know is that you talk an awful lot and you don't say anything. You must love the sound of your own voice."  
  
After a moment, a crooked grip came to his face and he let go of Buffy's arm. "Once again, you manage to hide your fear of me with words. Although I understand why you must do so. You aren't much of a Slayer by Middle-earth standards. The bloodline of the First has weakened considerably as time has passed by. The First - Sauron spoke rather highly of her, despite the reason she was brought forth."  
  
Buffy rubbed her arm where Melek had held her and she glared up at the throne of the Dark Lord. "Never took him for the complimentary kind of world destructor. Typically, you don't find that kind of quality in them these days."  
  
"Oh, yes, and you would know that because you are well acquainted with my master," he sarcastically shot back as he settled his disdainful gaze upon her. "The evils of your time, Buffy, are nothing compare to Lord Sauron. You fight bastardizations of the demons and creatures that inhabit our lands. Softened versions, I should say." He locked his hands behind his back and walked around her. "It's a wonder the Slayer even exists in the future. She seems so utterly ... pointless."  
  
Buffy gathered up the dress in her hands then whirled around and headed for the doorway leading out of the throne room. Orcs or not, she refused to stand there and listen to anymore of the bullshit Melek had to spew.  
  
"Leaving already?" he called out, his eyebrows arched in feigned questioning. "Why, you haven't even heard the most amusing part about your history, Slayer."  
  
"Frankly, I don't care!" she snarled in return. She didn't break stride. Enough was enough. She should've walked out on this jerk long before, but stupidly she believed he had something to tell her.   
  
"You'd rather not hear about the demon inside of you?"  
  
She stopped cold in her tracks. [What did he say?] "The demon?" She didn't turn around but she knew he stared at her. She could feel his eyes on her. "What are you talking about?" she cautiously asked. Still, she did not turn.   
  
"When the Valar created the First, they were quite clever, indeed," Melek went on. He smiled even though Buffy wouldn't be able to see it. "To hunt a creature, it is best to know a creature. And who knows better ... than the creature itself?"  
  
[He's lying,] was the first thought she had. Yet, the more she analyzed it, the more she wondered if it might not be true; so much was explained - her speed, agility, strength, amazing healing abilities. She could match the demons she fought because she was -  
  
"No!" she declared as she shook her head. She turned to face him. "That's a lie! I don't believe that anything created to fight evil would BE evil."  
  
"I never said that, Buffy," he replied as he wagged a finger at her. "You twist my words! I merely stated that, along with the part of the divine, the Slayer contains a piece of the evil she battles. However, should a Slayer embrace her more ... animalistic side ... " He chuckled softly. "And they've been known to - she would become one with the Darkness."  
  
[Faith, you killed a man,] Buffy heard her own voice echo in her head. Then, along with the visual of Faith, the other Slayer responded. [You don't get it, B. I don't care.]  
  
Her blood ran cold in her veins. It was almost as though time slowed. Nothing moved at a regular pace.  
  
[It's not true,] she thought.  
  
[It is,] came the hypnotic reply of Sauron.  
  
[I don't accept that. I won't.]  
  
[It matters not if you do or do not accept it, Slayer. We are of the same blood.]  
  
Before she knew it, her legs gave out from under her and she collapsed to the ground but didn't topple over fully. With a blank stare, she sat on the floor. It all made sense now. Faith, she had turned dark. She embraced the Evil side of her Slayer self and now she was in a coma, likely forever, because of it.  
  
A single tear streamed down her face then splashed gently onto the black floor. Probably the only purity the halls of Barad-Dûr had ever known. She didn't cry for herself, the tears were for Faith.   
  
Her eyes closed. All she could see was the surprise on Faith's face as the knife sliced into her gut. The hurt, the pain, the anger all dissolved and became that one emotion - surprise. Faith had never expected it from Buffy and Buffy never expected it from herself. But it had happened. More tears joined the first on the floor. It was uncontrollable now.  
  
All of those months of wondering what had gone wrong, all of the shoulda/woulda/couldas, everything that led to the two Slayer to that rooftop on a warm spring night, it was ironic; the two pieces of the Slayer at war, not in spirit but in body.   
  
"There, there," came Melek's soft voice, so soothing to her. A strong hand rested itself on her shoulder. He offered her a sympathetic expression as her eyes opened. "In time, it will hurt less. The truth always brings pain, Buffy, no matter what it is about."  
  
She wiped her hand under her nose and sniffled. The resemblance to Angel struck her once again and she had yet another revelation. "I'm no more than he was," she whispered. Her eyes searched his for something, some spark that would remind her of the person she'd loved. She found none. "I'm no more than a demon with a soul."  
  
He opened his arms and allowed the girl to fall into them then she began to sob on his shoulder. "Someone should've told you sooner," he said as he stroked her hair. "Sauron offers no lies, Buffy, only truth. When did your Watcher or his Council ever give you that? Hmm?"  
  
She could only recall the ills she'd suffered while Slayer. The lies of the Council, the lies Giles had told her when she was "tested", the lies of Quentin Travers. Then, later, the Council sent Wesley Wyndham-Pryce and he was no better. Nothing was true. Her existence was a lie. If it was done deliberately or if it was just ignorance on the part of the Council, it didn't matter now. She knew everything.  
  
Melek gathered up Buffy in his arms, careful with her unlike his previous encounters. Cradling her like a child, he carried her out of Sauron's throne room, through the maze of corridors of Barad-Dûr until he reached a door that stood alone at the end of one of them.   
  
"You will be safe here," he said as he pushed the door open. The hinges creaked loudly and Buffy lifted her head from Melek's shoulder.  
  
She stared through blank eyes at the new accommodations. No longer would she be imprisoned in a cold, empty cell, she would have all the comforts of a real home. A bed, no chains or shackles on the walls, no sounds of agonized screams were here; and the windows - the windows sported no bars. Freedom from those things belonged to her now.  
  
Melek placed her on the soft bed then brushed the loose wisps of hair away from her reddened, tear-stained face. More than ever now did he resemble Angel to Buffy. His eyes gazed down upon her now with a new emotion - one that she would identify as pity.  
  
"Sleep now, Buffy," he softly whispered, the palm of his hand gently rested itself upon her forehead. "You will find your place now that you know the truth. Guidance will come in time."  
  
She looked away from him, her gaze affixed on one of the open windows in her new room and the gray view of Mordor that lay outside of it. Her eyes closed and a moment later the touch of Melek's hand left her. The soft sound of a door closing then followed.  
  
[They aren't coming,] she thought in reference to Willow, Giles and Xander. Even if they did, it was pointless. They would be killed, and Willow - She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut even more tightly. [Don't think of it. Don't. You can't do anything about it.]  
  
No point in dwelling on the fate of the others. Events had been set into motion from the moment Sauron's goons abducted her. And those events had only one certain outcome.  
  
Death.  
  
-  
  
End Chapter Thirteen 


	14. 30 Pieces of Silver

Chapter Fourteen - "30 Pieces of Silver"  
  
-  
  
Once, as a much younger man, Giles had taken part in an ill-conceived attempt by the Council to spy on a demon dimension suspected of planning an invasion of Earth. While that particular dimension had been more horrific than the borderlands of Mordor, Sauron's realm was a close runner-up, Giles decided.  
  
They had been traveling with Yalanci and his company of Trolls and Orcs for many days now, a forced march of nearly nonstop unpleasantness broken only by moments of terror and disgust as far as Giles was concerned. The behavior of Orcs at rest was loathsome, to say the least, and Giles couldn't accept that they had anything to do with Elves, no matter what Elenya and the Elves themselves said.   
  
It was bad enough for him, but Xander and Willow had never been on this sort of journey before. Yalanci kept them moving almost past the point of endurance, whipping the odd Orc who strayed behind. Worse than the pace, though, was the constant fear that the ruse would be discovered, either by a slip of the tongue or Willow's spell fading away. But it didn't happen, and the only threat was mountains of Mordor, which loomed larger with every passing day. And, of course, the sun was nothing but a distant memory by that time, and it had reached the point where it was hard to tell when day ended and night began.  
  
Their new course took them south around the fringes of the Brown Lands, and then across the great empty plains northeast of Emyn Muil and the Dead Marshes, the stench of which could be smelled long leagues away. It was when they reached the barren, stony plains of the Dagorlad, famous to Giles and Yalanci at least, that the miserable reality of Mordor truly hit home.  
  
There were roads, crude and hastily laid, that crisscrossed the eastern portion of the Dagorland, linking Mordor to Sauron's domains farther away in the East. And along one dusty stretch of road a few days north of the Ash Mountains, there stood grim reminders of the Dark Lord's wrath - tall wooden poles with small crossbars at the top. At first, it appeared as if they were giant crucifixes, anticipating the Romans by thousands of years, but it soon became clear this was a different form of torture.  
  
From the crossbars were hung, heads down, the corpses of Men and Orcs - traitors and renegades of Mordor, Yalanci explained with a sick grin on his face. Many of the corpses were little more than skeletons, eaten away by the elements and carrion, but a few had but lately died. Some of them, Giles noticed with detached curiosity, were dark-skinned and clad in strange tunics (mostly torn to shreds) - slaves of Nurn, he guessed, or perhaps warriors from Far Harad.   
  
The Orcs hooted and hollered, to no one's surprise, and the Trolls also made deep grunts of amusement. None of them touched the bodies, though, almost certainly out of fear rather than respect.  
  
Giles did his best not to stare at the corpses and especially not to think about how long they had hung there before finally dying. Xander looked up once then turned away, his face slightly green, and Willow ignored them entirely.  
  
-  
  
"Buffy. Buffy, open your eyes."  
  
Slowly, Buffy did as the voice commanded. Her eyes opened and focused on a kind but unknown face that hovered above her. The girl couldn't have been more than 15 years old yet something about her was comforting. She felt no alarm by the presence of the dark haired stranger. She appeared no different than any other Man she'd met in Middle-earth, not in dress or speech.  
  
A smile came to the face of the girl when Buffy sat up on the bed. "I thought you might never awaken," she commented.  
  
Buffy glanced around the room. She was still in Barad-Dûr, unfortunately, but the oppressive tone of the place no longer lingered. She flicked her gaze over to the girl, who now sat beside her on the bed. Something else was familiar about the stranger - in her intense, brown eyes.  
  
"How did you get in here?" she asked.  
  
"We are not anywhere," the girl replied, the smile fading a little. She scooted closer to the blonde, her head tilting to one side. "I suppose it is true, then."  
  
Buffy arched an eyebrow. "You suppose what's true? Who are you?"  
  
The girl laughed a little. "Yes, you don't yet know my name. I never did tell you, did I?" She gestured to herself, giving a slight bow of the head. "I am Katil."  
  
Buffy stared back at the girl. "You're ... you're his ... sister," she whispered in response. She wasn't sure if she'd spoken the words her voice was so quiet. Her head tilted a little when Katil offered one solemn nod of confirmation. "You're ... the one who's been talking to me, too, aren't you? In my head."  
  
"Yes. Your mind is such a difficult one to pierce, as well," Katil answered. She looked towards the window, out onto Mordor. "But I would not have had near as much a struggle if not for Sauron." She paused then looked to Buffy. "His power grows with every passing moment." A sigh escaped her lips. "Even now."  
  
Buffy swung her legs over the side of the bed then faced Katil once more. "You said you've been trying to reach me. Why?"  
  
"You already know." She angled her head in such a way so she looked up at Buffy through her long eyelashes. "He has already told you many things that only the One should tell."  
  
"The One? You mean the Slayer?" Buffy became even more interested in what Katil had to say. "You know the truth, then, right? You can tell me what's a lie and what isn't?"  
  
Katil paused, as if listening to some unseen speaker, then she answered, "You know the truth, Buffy. It is the same truth passed down from Slayer to Slayer since the time of the First."  
  
Buffy's brow furrowed. "I ... I don't understand. What are you talking about? Passed on?"  
  
Katil stood and made her way to the window. Once there, she gazed upon Mordor, then shifted her attention longingly to the southwest. "It is a tradition that appears to have perished in years yet to pass," she quietly said. "In these times, the Duty is brought by one Slayer to the next. Our story is told."  
  
Buffy then realized what Katil meant. She was the Slayer before Elenya, the one who'd come to Elenya in dreams and explained what it meant to be Slayer and the duties that fell to her.   
  
"No, I guess that's not the way it's done in my time," she replied, almost remorseful. Buffy often wondered what the Slayer before her had been like. Was she more powerful? Was she smarter? Did have a Watcher like ... like Giles? The Council, not even Giles, did not answer questions about previous Slayers when she asked them. It was a mystery.  
  
Katil leaned on the windowsill, heaviness in her chest as she spoke now. "The time approaches," she murmured. "I can feel it."  
  
"What? What was that?" asked Buffy.  
  
The other girl shook her head. "These are the troubles of the outside world of which I speak. I am not here for them." She faced the blond, a new expression on her face. "I am here for you."  
  
"For me? Are you here to help me escape?"  
  
Katil shook her head again. "No. Imprisonment, Buffy, like so many other things, is a state of mind. Are you truly trapped here?"  
  
Buffy thought about it for a moment but before she could reply Katil had moved on to something else.  
  
"I attempted to reach you before. The Dark Lord had his own plans, and it seems as though he was successful with them where you are concerned."  
  
Buffy came closer to Katil, her eyes narrowed a bit in suspicion. "What do you mean?"  
  
"In the weeks since you were told the truth about the origins of the Slayer, you have lost all faith," she explained. She glanced over her shoulder again, and Buffy wondered what was out there that interested the other Slayer so. "If there is no faith, hope cannot exist. Sauron has won."  
  
Buffy shook her head once. "I don't see how I can have any hope after hearing that story, Katil. I'm ... I'm not even human. We're not. We never were."  
  
"Is that what you believe?"  
  
"Yes. Your brother said so and now you're backing it up. And, frankly, in the scheme of things, I trust your word over his." She stood toe to toe with the deceased Slayer. "We're part demon, Katil. Cursed. Maybe you don't get it, but I do. I lost a good friend because of this ... this part of us. Why should I have any faith left? I could become what she became - what Faith became. Hell, I almost did!" Tears welled up in her eyes once more and the guilt over what she'd done to Faith hit her harder than ever. "I killed her."  
  
The deceased Slayer was unmoved by the tears and the profession of guilt from her Sister.  
  
"You do not understand, Buffy. None of it is your fault. What happened with Faith was not under your control, it was only under hers."  
  
"Her control? How could she control it? She's part monster!" Buffy shouted. Her anger at the girl, even more at herself, bubbled over. "Like I am! Like you were! It isn't fair! I never wanted any of this. Why did I have to be different? Why do we have to be?" Tears fell to the floor as she calmed, voice quieter as she continued now. "Why did she have to be?"  
  
Katil remained silent while Buffy released her pain and anger upon her. She'd felt no differently when the one before her explained what a Slayer was. She did not wish to be different from her family, her people, but the Valar had deemed it so. She knew Buffy's rage and knowledge of her true self had helped it ebb.  
  
"You blame something that hasn't any bearing on such things for the decisions your friend and Sister made, Buffy," she finally replied, so smoothly it was almost hypnotic to Buffy's ears. "Our blood does not determine the path upon which we walk, we do. The choices we make dictate the sort of life we lead."  
  
Slowly, Buffy sank down onto the bed. As she did so, Katil's words sank in as well. It made sense when it was put that way. She swallowed hard, sniffled then brushed away her tears. Once again, she met the warm gaze of Katil.  
  
"I'm sorry," she apologized in a quiet voice. "I lost myself. It's this place. It's ... it's what's happened to me in the last few months. It's everything." Katil only meant to help and she'd verbally torn into her. "I'm feeling guilt again. I don't like it."  
  
Katil sat down beside Buffy and took one of the Slayer's hands into hers. "You needn't apologize. Sauron twists the truth and perverts it for his own gains. You are not the only one to make such a mistake by believing him, Buffy." She paused. For the first time, a mist of tears was now in her eyes. "There is truth in everything; there is truth in lies."  
  
"What do you mean?" Buffy inquired as she cocked her head to the side. She noted the pain in Katil's voice.  
  
"Melek," she answered. The heaviness in her heart grew even more just by speaking his name. "So many years ago, Sauron twisted words and made my brother believe that I would be the death of him."  
  
Buffy frowned. "Sounds like good ol' Sauron," she muttered. He'd played the same trick on Willow. Lucky for Giles, Xander and herself, Willow managed to resist him and see through his lies. "What happened after that?"  
  
"Melek sent word to me in the North, a message of peace and forgiveness for my decision to turn away from the service of Sauron and Mordor." Her eyes glazed over as she sank deep into memories of thing that happened nearly a quarter of a century before. "Almost a year I had gone without any word from my family. I wanted more than anything to believe his message that they had turned away from Sauron." A humorless laugh escaped her lips. "A foolish child I was. Thirteen winters may be enough for the Valar to call a warrior to service, but in the ways of common sensibility? I had none."  
  
Buffy's lips pressed together. Fourteen was a young age in any time period, and to yank a person of such an age to the front lines of a never-ending war? If not for Giles and her friends, Buffy knew she wouldn't have survived so long.  
  
"I came back to Khand. My foolish idealism was my downfall." Katil squeezed Buffy's hand then looked over to the living Slayer. "Under a flag of peace and truce that he'd extended to me, my brother ... killed me."  
  
Gasping in surprise, Buffy's jaw dropped open. Had she heard Katil right? Her own brother had ... had murdered her? She blinked a few times and the initial shock of such a revelation quickly gave way to anger. This small fact was something Melek never mentioned in all of his blathering.   
  
Probably a good idea, too. It opened up a new side to the man. He would slaughter his own flesh and blood so cruelly for Sauron. Buffy meant even less to him than Katil ever did. It didn't bode well for her survival in Barad-Dûr.  
  
[I have to get out of here,] she decided. [If I don't escape, I'm dead for sure. Not to mention poor Willow, Giles and Xander ... ]  
  
"The time draws near," Katil murmured again, her eyes half closed and affixed upon one of the windows in the room. "All that has happened will converge upon this place so very soon. Paths will cross. Cities will crumble. Everything will change."  
  
"Katil," Buffy said. She gave the girl's shoulder a shake to get her attention. The distance in Katil's voice when she spoke about this "time" approaching gave her serious wiggins. When she had Katil's attention, she asked, "Do you have any idea how Sauron's people came into the future? Was it a spell of some sort? Do you know if I can use it to get back home?"  
  
Katil gave one shake of her head. "He needs no spell to cut paths through the fabric of time," she replied. She stood and tugged on Buffy's hand to urge her to follow. Once they reached one of the windows, she directed Buffy's gaze to the volcano. "There. In the fires of Mount Doom, Sauron has hidden away many things. One of which being the way into the future, the way home."  
  
"Mount Doom," Buffy mumbled as she narrowed her eyes at the lava-belching volcano some distance away. She looked to Katil. "I don't get it. If Sauron has this ... this time machine, why doesn't he go into the past and change things?"  
  
Katil met Buffy's gaze. "He cannot. Sauron's power has limits. No one can undo the past for it is the model for the present and the future. Can you remove the foundation of a house, Buffy, and still expect it to stand in the exact same way?"  
  
Biting her lower lip, she pondered the girl's words. Melek has said something similar to her a few months before when she'd asked why Sauron didn't do that. They couldn't kidnap Buffy from the past; they were forced to delve into the future.  
  
"To remove one single thread from a tapestry, it begins a chain reaction and all it was becomes no more." Katil placed her hands on the blonde Slayer's shoulders and gazed deep into her eyes. "I must leave you now. The time is coming. All of Middle-earth lies in wait for it. Three shall arrive and one will fall - a victim to his own weakness. No one can stop it."  
  
['Three shall arrive'? What the hell is she talking about? Could it be some sort of reference to - ] "Katil, what -"  
  
"I must go," Katil interrupted. She released the other Slayer and backed away from her. As she did so, her form faded from sight. "The future awaits all of us, Buffy. Some things that are not yet written cannot be erased."  
  
With that, Katil vanished from sight completely.  
  
"Wait!" Buffy reached out a hand for Katil but she gasped when the door to her room opened. Melek stood in the doorway, no Orc guards with him, and he stared at the Slayer for a moment, curious.  
  
"Whom were you speaking to?" he asked after another moment of odd silence.  
  
Her arm dropped to her side as he stepped into the room. "No one," she answered. "Must've been sleep-talking. And walking." She noted the lack of belief on his face at her explanation. "Really. It's just me in here. Take a look."  
  
Melek walked around the room, his hands locked behind his back as he took the girl up on her offer to look around. He thoroughly inspected the room then finally turned his attention back to Buffy. "Whomever it was you weren't speaking to, they appear to be gone," he announced. He narrowed his eyes slightly at her but pursued the issue no further.  
  
Buffy shrugged. "I don't know what else to tell you."  
  
Melek stopped in front of Buffy and stared upon her. She only stood there, staring back at him. "Have it your way, then," he said once a full minute of quiet passed between them then turned away.  
  
"That's usually how I have it," she quipped. She smiled just a little when he looked over his shoulder at her. "Some days, you have to look out for number one, ay?" She raised an eyebrow, knowingly, when he turned to her.  
  
Melek tilted his head to one side, trying to work out what new game this was. "A strange thing for you to say, I think," he told her. "Where is your endless supply of self-righteousness, Slayer? Your annoying sense of sacred duty?"  
  
She walked towards the window, a casual tone about her voice as she spoke. "Maybe I've had a revelation or two since you last talked to me." She stopped at the window and gazed out at Mount Doom - so close yet so far away. She knew she had to get there - by any means necessary.  
  
"Pray tell, what sort of revelations did you have?" he inquired. He kept up his guard, however. Lord Sauron still did not have full faith in the girl, but he believed she could be of use. Once Sauron had what he wanted, the shape of things to come would be so vastly different.  
  
"I did a lot of thinking," she began as she turned away from the window. Leaning back against the wall, she leveled her gaze on him. "I've had a good look at what kind of forces Sauron is up against in this war. Pathetic bunch out there. Most regular humans are, though. Am I right?"  
  
"Mmm hmm," Melek murmured with a slight nod. "The same pathetic humans you swore to protect."  
  
Buffy shook her head. "That's another thing." She pushed herself away from the wall. "This whole sacred duty mess, it's something I never asked for. Never wanted it and, most days, I still don't." She glanced around. "This would be the perfect chance for me to throw in the towel and quit."  
  
His eyebrows shot up, partly in surprise. "Quit? As in resign your position as Slayer?"  
  
She nodded. "Oh yeah. Exactly. Here's my chance." She threw out her arms. "It's obvious I'm never going to get out of this place, so I better get with program, right?" Her arms dropped back down to her sides as she sighed. "For once in my time as Slayer, I have to admit, somebody's beaten me. I've met my match."  
  
Melek's face broke into a crooked smile after a few moments. He took a step closer to the blonde, his eyes never leaving hers. "And what of your friends?"  
  
"What about them?" She gave another shrug of the shoulders. "The way you tell it, they're as good as dead. They suffer from the same hero complex I do. I DID," she quickly corrected herself. "No reason for everyone to go down with the ship."  
  
"No," he agreed, slowly. He narrowed his eyes at her in suspicion. He watched as she closed the distance between them. "There isn't." He paused. "And you would willingly forsake them to Sauron? They've entered the land of Mordor now - all three of them."  
  
Buffy pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth. Katil's words about the arrival of the three and one falling because of a weakness came flooding back to her. Katil could've only meant Willow, the one Sauron set up this entire game for. He'd probably been working Willow's mind over since she and Xander arrived in Middle-earth.  
  
[I have to stop it,] she thought. The distant rumblings of Mount Doom caught her attention. The machine of Sauron's was the only way. She couldn't change the past but she could alter the future. With the machine, she could travel into HER future from that point in time and prevent herself from being abducted. [It's the only way.]  
  
"I'm not forsaking them," she coolly replied. "They've done that for themselves." She slipped her hands up Melek's chest, rested them on his shoulders then tipped her head back so she could look into his eyes. "Can you blame me for wanting to go with the winner?"  
  
He glanced down at the Slayer's hands but did not return the gesture by coming in contact with her. "And you would have me believe that you are now loyal to Sauron," he asked as he met her gaze once again. "Mere words are not enough, Slayer, to prove such a thing. You'll need more than words -" Another glance at her hands " - and useless seductive charms."  
  
Buffy gripped Melek by the fabric of his clothes and swung him around then gave him a hard push backwards. She amazed herself with the move. Her Slayer strength was returning to her, thanks to the better treatment from Sauron in the last few weeks. She noticed the surprise on Melek's face from his place on his back ... and on her bed.   
  
"Well ..." she said, her tone dropping to a more adult tone. "I guess I'll have to resort to ... something else." She pushed him back as she joined her captor on the bed. He wasn't so big and bad now that she had ten times his strength. If she didn't know better, she could've sworn she saw a bit of fear in his eyes. She leaned closer to him, her face just millimeters away from his. "Won't I?"  
  
"And what do you propose?" inquired Melek. He relaxed once again. He wouldn't let the girl get the one up on him another time. Let her believe she had some sort of control. At least for now.  
  
Buffy smiled. "I can bring them to you."  
  
He searched the Slayer's eyes and found something there. Something he'd never seen before. Maybe she wasn't lying after all. Then again, maybe she was.  
  
"Bring them? What makes you believe Lord Sauron would need you to bring them to him?"  
  
"I'm not saying he does," she coolly answered. She straddled herself over the lower half of his body and her hands slid down his chest. "I want to do it. Wouldn't that prove that I'm on his side, to convince my own friends to come with me ... to Sauron?" She cocked her head to the left. "What does he have to lose?"  
  
"His prisoner," was Melek's reply.  
  
She sat up straight but never took her eyes off of his. One eyebrow arched as her smile faded. "Is that what you think this is, an escape attempt?" She laughed. "If you want to make sure I don't escape, send a few of your thugs with me. I don't care."  
  
Melek stared at her for a long, hard time ... and, finally, a smile gradually crept across his face.  
  
"We shall have it your way, then," he simply said.  
  
_  
  
End Chapter Fourteen.   
  
We're glad everyone's still reading and enjoying the story. Thank you all for being patient in waiting for new chapters. Real life's been getting in our way these days so we're not able to churn this one out like the last. Chapter Fifteen will be on its way within the next two weeks. 


	15. The Secret of Mount Doom

Chapter Fifteen  
"The Secret of Mount Doom"  
  
"You are about to embark on a most treacherous journey, Slayer," Melek said as he watched Buffy  
equip herself with a sword that suited her size and skill. It had been nearly a day since she'd  
volunteered to bring her friends to Sauron. In that time she'd done everything in her power to  
make him believe that she'd come to their side. He was not convinced. "Are you certain you wish  
to proceed?"  
  
Buffy slipped the sword into the black sheath then looked over to Melek. "I've been through your  
lands, I know what's out there. You shouldn't worry about me. I can handle myself." She slung  
the strap of the sheath over her shoulder and around her neck then adjusted it. She glanced from  
him to the three well-armed Orc warriors with him. "Your boys there - they should be scared, I  
think."  
  
Melek smiled a little. "You haven't any idea of what lies beyond the confines of Barad-Dur, Slayer.   
Not in Mordor." He stepped closer, looking her over in the black traveling clothes of the Easterlings  
that she'd been given to wear. Her hair was pulled back from her face into a ponytail. Wrists  
sported strong leather gauntlets. "In our land, there are dangers that even our own forces fear."  
  
Buffy snorted softly. "You can stop trying to scare me. I'm going." She turned when she heard the  
whinny of a few horses. The animals did not appear pleased to be in such close proximity to the  
three Orcs. She stepped back as one of the horses was brought forward.  
  
"This is for you," Melek said as he patted the jet black steed's muzzle. He smiled a little as he  
looked over to Buffy. "A gift from Lord Sauron ... to his newest ally. This will reduce your travel  
time."  
  
"Isn't that so very thoughtful?" Buffy accepted the reins from Melek and ran her palm over the  
horse's neck a few times. "And people only have bad things to say about Sauron. I'm beginning to  
think he's just misunderstood."  
  
Melek remained silent. He only watched as Buffy swung herself into the saddle.  
  
She looked down at him from atop the horse. "Don't wait up for me. This could take awhile." Her  
gaze shifted to the three Orc 'guards' who were all uneasily mounting the other horses. She had to  
work hard to not laugh at the sight. They didn't care for the horses, like the horses didn't care for  
them.  
  
"Follow the road to the North. You will cross paths with them soon. They travel with a small band  
of Lord Sauron's soldiers. They believe they've fooled the soldiers into leading them through  
Mordor. " Melek glanced at the three Orcs who were now on the horses. "Should you encounter  
any trouble, these will be at your service."  
  
Buffy resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the notion. If she should need help, she certainly wouldn't  
receive it from these three. Reining the horse around, she shifted her attention to the road before  
them. Jabbing her heels into the sides of the horse, the Slayer began her journey away from  
Barad-Dur and towards Mount Doom.  
  
-  
  
After nearly two days of hard riding and little rest, the volcano was within her sight. Not so far off  
but still a considerable distance from her present position. Luckily, her Orc companions were so  
brainless they didn't sort out that Buffy had been headed southwest instead of north. They were too  
preoccupied with keeping themselves in the saddle. A great source of amusement for the long  
journey, she discovered.  
  
Bringing her horse to a halt, she looked over her shoulder to the three Orcs. One of them was  
without a mount. He'd been thrown off of it the day before and the horse vanished into the North.   
That forced the other two to rotate riding turns.  
  
"This is the part where I ditch you losers," she informed them. She smiled when all three Orcs  
stared back at her, confused.  
  
Drawing a dagger from its boot sheath, she hurled it at one of the riders. The blade sliced into his  
neck and both of his hands grasped at the handle of the knife as he tumbled from the saddle, gasping  
for breath that would never come. The other rider tried desperately to control his horse that had  
been started by the other Orc falling. Buffy drew the second dagger from her other boot and took  
out the other mounted creature easily. The thunk of the blade into the chest of the Orc could be  
heard from where she was.   
  
The Orc on foot drew his weapon, bared his teeth and charged her. She didn't move as the Orc  
neared. When he was close enough, she removed her foot from the stirrup and rammed the bottom  
of it into the Orc's face. Stunned, the weapon fell from his hands and Buffy drew her own sword.   
With one fluid motion, she neatly separated the Orc's head from his body.  
  
For a moment, Buffy surveyed the carnage left behind. Three dead Orcs - not much of a loss. Not  
much of a gain either. Still, she felt better having killed something. So many months of being  
denied the hunt, she hadn't realized until that second how much all of it meant to her. It was a part  
of her. She felt complete again.   
  
And it terrified her.  
  
A slight frown tugged at her lips. She knew that Melek was right. Despite Katil's confirmation, she  
still disbelieved. Not anymore. A piece of the Slayer desired this - she had to crave it in order to  
survive in her world. Her reason for existence was death. She brought it to those who deserved it.   
The Powers had created her to do so - to protect the innocent. She was part killer, part hunter - part  
... demon.  
  
Slipping the sword back into the sheath, she reined the horse around. After taking one last look at  
the corpses, she urged the steed into a full gallop towards Mount Doom.  
-  
  
As Giles, Willow, Xander and their grim escort drew closer and closer to the mountain walls of  
Mordor, their mood became as dark as the skies above. The fact that their little group grew  
larger and larger as stray Orc patrols joined them (why, Giles wasn't sure, although he guessed even  
those loathsome creatures were uncomfortable wandering the wilds in such small groups).  
  
Finally, though, after what seemed like months in that foul company, they reached the Black Gate of  
Mordor, the ancient entryway to the heart of Sauron's empire on Middle-earth. According to Elrond,  
the great doors had been crafted by Sauron in imitation of the mithril gates of Minas Tirith of old,  
but were dark and evil. Just to look upon them was to feel awe and fear at Sauron's power and skill.  
No Man living could create their equal, or build the grim towers that surrounded them like fangs - or  
blades - on the mountainside.  
  
On this day, the doors were open, and a vast force of Orcs and Southrons were marching forth,  
all garbed in black mail and under the banner of the Red Eye. Yalanci ordered their group to  
stand aside and let the great army pass on its way to northern battles, and the afternoon was  
well on by the time the rear guard finally cleared the small valley before the Gate.  
  
"Now," Yalanci said, and pointed south into Mordor with his scimitar.  
  
The Orcs swarmed around Giles, Willow and Xander in their haste to be home, and the three Men  
were swept along with the tide, barely able to keep their footing.  
  
And then more Orcs appeared from within Mordor, mounted on huge black Wargs. They steered  
right for the travelers, swords drawn and howling in their twisted dialect of Black Speech,  
and charged.  
  
"Giles," Xander started to say, but then two Orcs grabbed him by the arms. "Hey!"  
  
"Let him go," Willow snapped, raising her hand in warning, but then she too was seized, gagged and  
bound before she could mutter even the beginning of an incantation. Giles had time to lay  
a hand on the hilt of his sword before he was forced to the ground.  
  
Yalanci was standing there, smirking down at him. "Poor fool... did you think you could actually  
deceive your way into Mordor?" he asked, shaking with laughter. "My Lord Sauron is  
expecting you all. Especially you, Master Giles. Lord Sauron is very eager to finally meet  
you after all these years."  
  
Giles bowed his head in shame. Of course... of course. [How could we have been so hopelessly  
naive?] he thought as he was hauled to his feet and cold iron chains were wrapped around all  
of them.  
  
-  
  
Without the Orcs slowing her down, it was only another hour's ride to the base of Mount Doom. As  
Buffy slowed the horse to a stop, her head tilted back and she gazed up at the mountain in awe. A  
mist of molten rock continuously spewed from the top of it. The lava itself traveled down specific  
crevices in the sides of the mountain. The air was hot here and thick with the smell of ash and  
sulfur.  
  
Dismounting, Buffy's eyes searched for a continuation of the path she'd rode up to that point upon.   
Soon, she found it. Hidden away by fallen rock and various debris, there it was - the path up the  
mountain. This was the way home.  
  
[You've come this far, Buffy. Only a ... ] A quick glance at the volcano. [... a considerable climb  
and you're there. You can make it. You're the Slayer.]  
  
And so she began her climb up the mountain.  
  
-  
  
A hand grabbed hold of one of the ash covered, jagged boulders and Buffy steadied herself for a  
moment so she could brush the loose strands of hair away from her sweat-laden face. She sighed  
heavily then coughed a few times. The higher she went, the thicker the ash could became. All of the  
sulfur and chemicals leading through the rock from the volcano burned her eyes and lungs. She put  
it out of her mind as she continued to push forward.  
  
The path was more rocky at this point, but she would soon reach her goal. The end was near, she  
could sense it. Swallowing hard, Buffy placed a booted foot onto the rather large rock in her path.   
Her foot slipped and she stumbled forward but she remained standing. The sweat streamed down  
her face and neck once again. She steeled herself against the elements and pressed onward.  
  
"Come on," she whispered, trying to give herself encouragement. "It isn't much further. You can  
do this. Then you can go home and stop all of this from ever happening." She leaned against the  
rock wall, breathing heavily. "I know - you need a song, Buffy. Something to take your mind off of  
this." Pushing away from the wall, she trudged on. "But what song?" she wondered.  
  
She sought lyrics to a song, any song, that would enable her to continue on. She discarded a couple  
of Willow's favorites as they were mostly ballads by Oz's band. Instantly, she rejected anything that  
Giles had subjected her to. It was bad enough she was climbing up the side of a volcano in Mordor,  
the last thing she needed was a Bay City Rollers tune stuck in her head.   
  
Finally, she settled on a song Xander used to annoy her and Willow with. "The Name Game", a  
tune from the mid-sixties. As she half-sang through every single person she'd ever know, she  
discovered that the journey was less of a challenge. When she ran out of names of people in  
Sunnydale and the greater Los Angeles area, she started in on those she'd met while in Middle-earth.   
The list of names wasn't that long but the oddness of them made them more difficult to rhyme.  
  
Huffing, she stepped over another rock. "Let's do ... SAURON!" she exclaimed once her list of  
Middle-earth names came to it's end. "Sauron, Sauron, bo ferron ... " Her words caught in her  
throat when she caught sight of an entranceway around the corner she'd just turned. She stopped in  
her tracks, staring at the cavern. "This is it," she whispered.  
  
The path continued beyond the entranceway. The grumbling of the volcano was more audible here  
and the heat was now almost unbearable. How anything could survive the intensity of this type of  
environment, she didn't know. Only a few more steps, and she would find what she was looking for.   
Moving forward, Buffy entered the chamber inside of the cone.   
  
She gave little thought to the bubbling magma below the walkway as she marched forward.   
However, she noted that inside the cone, the heat wasn't as intense. She'd suspected something was  
off about this volcano since she first spotted it from Barad-Dur several months before.  
  
Her feet were sure upon the rocky path that led towards the center of the cone. She glanced around,  
wondering exactly where the way home was. A rumble shook the ground beneath her and she  
gasped sharply when she caught sight of the glowing magma below her. Her fear turned to  
curiosity, though, when she spotted a ledge, about twenty feet below the one she was now on.   
  
Cut into the rock wall was an archway. Upon closer inspection, she saw a stairway had been carved  
into the rock as well. From her perspective, it was nearly invisible. That she'd even noticed it was a  
miracle. Doubling back, she headed for the top of that staircase.  
  
To the right of the archway she'd just passed through, Buffy discovered the beginning of the steps.   
Carefully, but quickly, she descended them and peered around the corner when she reached the  
manmade hole in the wall. Listening, she heard the dull hum of machinery echoing from within.   
Drawing her sword, she crept forward into the darkened tunnel and made her way to the source of  
the sounds.  
  
As she neared the end of the tunnel, the mechanical noise grew louder and as it did, her heart  
pounded faster. Whatever it was that Sauron used to travel through time was here and she had to  
use it. Approaching the opening, she pressed against the wall, peered around the corner so she could  
see into the room without being seen. Her eyes widened at the monstrosity before her.  
  
In the middle of the cavernous room was a large, rather cubic in shape, mass of metal. All around  
the cube's outside were wheels, gears and elaborate pulleys that worked feverishly as the machine  
rumbled. From one side, two large tubes that resembled air conditioning vents extended from the  
machine and connected to a twelve foot tall 'doorway'. Along the inner edges of this doorway were  
six nodes, much like those found on telephone polls. The nodes glowed and occasionally sparked  
with a weird blue electricity but that was all.  
  
Her eyes traveled away from the nodes, over the machine then narrowed on a massive steaming  
fissure in the cavern floor. She walked towards the fissure, sword still in hand. She crept to the  
edge. A orangish yellow glow emanated from it but this was not magma-caused. She narrowed her  
eyes.  
  
[Something about this is oddly familiar.]  
  
She drew in a quick breath when the memory came to her. "The Hellmouth," she whispered.   
Stepping away, she now noticed another shaft that ran from the fissure and connected to the  
machine. Somehow, this machine drew it's power from the energies of the Hellmouth it sat upon.   
"This doesn't run off of Duracells." She glanced around the cavern, a panic setting in now.   
"There's more than one Hellmouth? Either that or Sunnydale's had one hell of a makeover since  
today."  
  
The sound of a single person applauding made her whirl around, sword at the ready. "You," she  
hissed when she found Melek standing there, accompanied by a dozen Orc soldiers. She kept one  
eye on the Orcs as they took up positions around the machine, to protect it.  
  
"It's about time you showed, Slayer," Melek said as he strolled into the cavern, triumphant smirk on  
his face. "I've been waiting for over a day. But I suppose I can't place the blame solely on your  
shoulders. It wasn't your fault one of your guards lost his horse." He smiled at her. "I'm surprised  
that you allowed them to live for so long."  
  
"You won't get that kindness from me, jackass," she growled. Her fingers tightened around the grip  
of the sword.   
  
He laughed. "Slayers don't kill humans. Isn't that what you told me?"  
  
"I don't think a scumbag like you qualifies as such," she evenly replied. Her eyes burned into his.   
Her body tensed as the adrenaline pumped. She'd been cooped up for too long, she itched for a  
fight. "Anyone who murders his own sister in cold blood doesn't deserve to be called a human being  
let alone be treated as one."  
  
Melek's smile vanished. "Who told you about that?" he asked as he took a step towards her.   
"Answer me, woman!" he yelled as he pointed a finger at her.  
  
Buffy stared a few moments. "This is one that I usually reserve for the vampires," she finally said.   
She paused then added, "Bite me."  
  
While Melek and the Orcs were temporarily baffled by her response, Buffy landed a side kick to the  
chest of the Orc nearest to her. He tumbled backwards and fell screaming into the steaming chasm.   
She whirled around, her sword blocking the axe of another Orc. In a quick twist of her wrist, her  
sword wrenched the axe from the Orc's hands. Once he was weaponless she brought the blade  
around and relieved him of his head.  
  
Two more Orcs charged. Bending over as she pivoted on one foot, she snagged the axe from the  
second Orc and threw it at one of the advancing creatures. The axe caught the Orc square in the  
chest and with such force that he was thrown back about three feet. Squatting down, she let the next  
Orc trip himself over her body. While the Orc was sprawled on his back, she ended his life by a  
quick beheading. Spinning around on one foot she set her sights on Melek. In a rush of rage and  
hatred, she charged.  
  
Melek used his left hand to easily deflect Buffy's blade away from him. Having little control over  
her own attack, Buffy lost her grip on her sword and it flew out of her hands. Before she could  
recover Melek delivered a violent backhanded punch that stopped her cold. In those two critical  
seconds, Buffy fell victim to the remaining Orcs.  
  
  
"Don't kill her!" Melek shouted as he grabbed the upraised axe of one of the Orcs. He gave each of  
Buffy's captors a meaningful glare. "Or else you'll suffer the wrath of the Dark Lord!"  
  
"Ooo," Buffy groaned as she fought to keep conscious. She felt the clamp of cold adamant shackles  
on her wrists. Her head tilted back and her eyes met Melek's. "This isn't over yet."  
  
Melek seized her chin in his hand then leaned towards her. "You're right about that, Slayer. Your  
friends are guests of Lord Sauron - the await our return at Barad-dur."  
  
Buffy jerked away. "What was all of this about? Why send me on this journey if you knew all  
along I wasn't on your side? What could you possibly have to gain from it?"  
  
He smiled. "Who said that gain was the point of every action?" With that, he punched her in the  
face, effectively knocking her out.  
  
-  
  
End Chapter Fifteen 


	16. The Trials of Faust

Chapter Sixteen  
"The Trials of Faust"  
  
-  
  
"Giles?"  
  
Giles's eyes opened and he looked over to Xander. They'd been prisoners in Sauron's throne room  
for nearly two days now. Buffy was nowhere to be found, either. No one would talk to them when  
they asked questions. He suspected this was some sort of mind game of Sauron's. He knew the  
Dark Lord delighted in such ventures. A way to break the wills of Men. He decided long ago he  
wouldn't be broken.  
  
"What is it, Xander?"  
  
Xander glanced around the darkened room then leaned closer to Giles, his voice dropping to a  
whisper. "Willow's gone."  
  
Giles sat up. "What do you mean, she's gone?"  
  
"As in she's not in the room with us," Xander replied, gesturing to the chamber. "I woke up and she  
wasn't here anymore." He ran his hand through his hair, letting out a frustrated sigh. "This day just  
keeps gettin' better and better."  
  
Giles got to his feet and began to thoroughly search the room for Willow. She couldn't have just  
gone. They had Orc guards at the doorways. She was probably in another portion of the room.   
That was it.  
  
"I've already looked, Giles," Xander called as the older man rounded the throne of Sauron. He  
shook his head. "I can't begin to imagine what's happened to her."  
  
Giles stopped in his tracks at Xander's words. He thought about it. He knew what Xander meant  
even if he didn't speak it aloud. Willow had changed upon entering Mordor. Of course she'd been  
different before then but this was more noticeable. Since they'd arrived at Barad-dur, however,  
Willow went mute. A constant expression of fear had taken over her face as well.  
  
Xander stood. "She's gone," he said again. His heart hung heavily in his chest as he though of  
Willow. Sauron had her now and how it ended would be up to her.  
  
-  
  
"Willow."  
  
Willow lifted her head and looked around the empty room which she'd been taken to a few hours  
before by a pair of Orc soldiers. She sniffled a few times, the fear inside becoming more difficult to  
ignore. The black walls gave the impression of foreboding, a sense of helplessness and a coldness.   
How Buffy managed to survive as long as she had in this sort of place, it amazed her.  
  
"What do you want?" she asked in a soft voice. "Why can't you leave me alone?"  
  
"Do you wish me to, Willow?" Sauron replied. "You know what I can give you, should you accept  
my offer. Power. Power unlike any you've ever known."  
  
Scrambling to her feet, shook her head. "I've already told you, I don't want it!"  
  
"Don't you?"  
  
She swallowed hard. "No."  
  
"You cannot lie to me. I know what is inside of your race. Men are plagued by the desire for  
power. They arrange their entire existence upon it. Those who possess the power use it to control  
those who do not."  
  
"You don't know anything about people, do you?" she countered hotly. Turning in a circle, she  
looked up to the ceiling of the room as she continued. "Did you forget why you kidnaped Buffy?   
You said it yourself, you knew it would bring us here."  
  
"Yes, I did say that."  
  
"That wasn't about power. That's about friendship. Loyalty." Her eyes narrowed at the emptiness  
above her. "Every single human being has that inside, along with this desire for power that you love  
talking about, Sauron. Most people resist the worse parts of themselves in favor for the better. I'm  
one of those people. Like Buffy. That's what made me follow your Nazgul through the portal."  
  
"And here you are," was the response but, this time, it was in Frodo's voice.  
  
Willow whirled around. The bright eyed Hobbit emerged from the shadows. She instantly stepped  
back from him. "You can knock off with the disguises, Sauron, I know that's you." Her voice  
shook slightly as she spoke. "I've seen the real you. It isn't an innocent Hobbit."  
  
"Yes, Willow, but do you not remember how you felt when you last saw this creature?" He  
gestured to the shell of Frodo dressed in the simple clothing of the Shire. "I felt it through you - just  
as I feel it now."  
  
Willow pressed her lips together as memories of that meeting in Rivendell filled her mind. That fear  
she'd had when she realized what it was the small Hobbit carried, it was quelled by her desire to  
own it. The One Ring - it had called to her. "The taint", Elrond had said, of the lesser ring  
remained. It made her more susceptible to the Ring Frodo carried.  
  
"I'm not like you," she spat back, taking another step away from the advancing Hobbit. "You  
murder innocent people. And you have that whole 'Ooo-I'm-a-scary-Dark-Lord-of-Evilness' thing  
going on, too. We're on different sides."  
  
"You believe you could not take the life of another?"  
  
She shook her head. "Never."  
  
'Frodo' stopped his advance when Willow bumped up against the black wall. A smile cross his lips.   
"You do not know yourself very well, Willow." He lifted a hand and gestured downward. As a  
result, Willow felt herself be forced to her knees. She couldn't move a muscle as he came closer,  
hand extended. "Perhaps you need ... illumination."  
  
She gasped loudly as the hand clamped onto her head. A surge of power struck her so hard she  
cried out in pain. Eyes tearing up, she squeezed them shut and tried to block out the excruciating  
anguish whatever Sauron was doing caused her. Soon, flashes of memories burst into her conscious  
mind. The mental walls came crashing down like an anvil - things long made forgotten returned.  
  
-  
  
"WILLOW!"  
  
Her eyes opened at the sound of Buffy's voice screaming inside of her head. The memory  
continued to fight it's way to the surface, even as Sauron removed his hand and backed away from  
her, smiling contendedly.  
  
"Huh?" She turned around, the sword moved directly in front of her, and the tip of the blade  
pointed out and away from her body. Almost as soon as she'd turned, she saw Rauko - sword in  
hand, determination on his face - right there.   
  
But his determination turned to pained surprise. He blinked a few times, his sword dropped out  
of his hand and clattered onto the ground. Both of his hands grabbed Elenya's sword that was  
still in Willow's clutches. The mithril blade had so easily cut through his flesh and was driven  
almost completely through him. A choking gasp escaped his lips when Willow, realizing what  
had happened, let go of the handle and backed away. Her wide-eyed gaze riveted to the weapon  
protruding from Rauko's body.  
  
Buffy skidded to a halt, Xander bumped into her but neither of them seemed to notice. They  
stared at Rauko as he stumbled away from Willow while he gripped the sword still lodged into  
his gut.   
  
Willow shook her head. [No. No, I didn't. I ... I stabbed him.] She watched as Rauko gritted his  
teeth and pulled Elenya's blade out of him. The sword tumbled out of his hands that immediately  
clutched the wound, now bleeding profusely. The redhead continued to back away when her  
gaze met Rauko's. For some reason, she felt sorry for him. [And I killed him.]  
  
-   
  
"NO!!"   
  
Doubling over, Willow grabbed her head with both of her hands. Rocking back and forth, she  
closed her eyes but that didn't make the memory of Rauko's face leave her. He stood there -  
surprised. Then all she could see was blood. His blood. Blood that she'd spilled. [I killed him. I  
killed a person. A human being.] She began to sob, softly. Her fingers dug deep into her skull as  
though that could drive it out.  
  
"Do you understand now, Willow?" came the soft tones of Bilbo Baggins' voice. The elder Hobbit  
kneeled by her side, a hand resting on her back as she continued to sob. He leaned closer to her ear,  
dropping his voice to a whisper. "You killed a man."  
  
"It was a mistake," she replied, her own voice muffled. She shook her head from side to side. "I  
didn't mean for it to happen. I never wanted to kill anyone." Drawing in a choking breath, she sat  
back on her heels as her hands dropped into her lap. Hot tears slipped down her cheeks as she gazed  
at the fatherly face of 'Bilbo'. "Don't you understand? I ... I didn't mean to hurt anybody."  
  
"But you did." He kneeled in front of her. "And it hurts you, does it not?"  
  
She nodded. "Yes." She wiped a hand across her cheeks, brushing away the tears. The surprised  
expression from Rauko was now etched into her brain.  
  
"I could help you with that, child." A hand brushed the hair back from Willow's forehead. He  
offered a small smile. "I released the spell Pallando placed upon you and I can return it just as  
easily. You will never know what you did."  
  
She closed her eyes and felt a jolt when the memory of Rauko being impaled on the end of the sword  
hit her. Her eyes flicked open then focused on the figure before her. She couldn't live with that on  
her conscience which was probably why Pallando had removed it from her mind.  
  
[That's it,] she thought. It dawned on her, why she felt something was missing in her head. [That's  
why - it was gone.]  
  
Her eyes found 'Bilbo''s again. "What do you want in return?" she asked in a whisper.   
  
"You already know."  
  
-  
  
End Chapter Sixteen 


	17. Reunions

Chapter Seventeen  
"Reunions"  
  
Xander sat up when he heard the sound of approaching footsteps. He glanced at Giles who had been  
pacing back and forth on the other side of the room. Giles stopped then looked from Xander to the  
entrance. A moment later, another person was shoved into the room by two Orc soldiers.  
  
"Get in there, woman!" snarled one of them.  
  
"Why don't you take these chains off and we'll see how damn tough you are!" Buffy shouted as the  
two Orcs retreated from the room. She groaned in frustration as she turned away from the entrance.   
Her eyes narrowed when she noticed two other people in the room with her. "Xander?" she asked  
after a moment's hesitation. Her hands gathered up the adamant chains as she came closer.   
"Xander ... is ... is that you?"  
  
"Buffy?" Xander slowly got to his feet. When the other person stepped into the light, a smile spread  
across his face. His heart lifted for the first time in so many months. "Buffy!" He rushed towards  
her.  
  
"Oh, God! Xander!" she exclaimed as he wrapped his arms around her. She couldn't return his hug  
like she wanted to because of the chains. Instead, she just allowed him to hug her. "I can't believe  
you're here! You're really here, aren't you? Please don't let this be a hallucination. I've had  
enough of those to last me for a long time."  
  
"I'm not, Buffy. We're not. Giles and me." He didn't want to let her go. He was afraid that  
Sauron would come to take her away from him again. "We've finally found you." He hugged her  
closer and placed a long kiss on the top of her head. "I found you," he added in a whisper.  
  
Giles approached slowly. He was as happy as Xander that Buffy was in one piece and well. Still,  
they needed their moment together. A moment that was warming to his soul to behold. Xander, for  
all his faults and mistakes, truly loved Buffy. The simple fact that he'd gone through the portal after  
her impressed Giles, though he didn't ever tell Xander that to his face. Even having no special  
powers, he was always the first to step up to the plate.  
  
Buffy sniffled as she looked up at Xander. "She kept telling me not to give up hope. She said you  
would come. I didn't believe her. I didn't. But now." Tears welled in her eyes as she gazed into  
Xander's. "You're really here."  
  
"Buffy."  
  
She looked from Xander to Giles who had just joined them. He was older - more battle worn - but it  
was him. "Giles," she breathed.  
  
Giles accepted her into a hearty hug. He closed his eyes and tried to refrain from weeping in relief.   
She was alive. She was alive. All right. Alive. [I'm sorry, Buffy,] he thought. [I'm sorry I wasn't  
there when you needed me.] He couldn't say it aloud. Not just yet. He was happy to have her back.   
There would be time for apologies later.  
  
Buffy stepped back when Giles released her. "Where's Willow?" she asked. She looked from Giles  
to Xander then a worried expression crossed her features. "Guys? Where's Willow?"  
  
Xander and Giles exchanged a quick glance.  
  
"She vanished a couple of days ago," Xander told her.  
  
"When we woke up, she was gone," Giles picked up, gaining Buffy's attention. "We can only  
assume that some of Sauron's soldiers took her to another part of the Tower."  
  
Buffy bit her lower lip as she remembered the words Katil spoke. "One would fall to his weakness".   
Willow was the one in this trio who had a "weakness". What if she surrendered to Sauron? What if  
he'd forced her to? What would they do then? They couldn't leave her there.  
  
"We can't go back without her," she finally said as she lifted her head. "I won't go back without  
her."  
  
"We're not going anywhere without Willow," Xander firmly replied. He glanced at Giles who  
didn't seem quite as certain about it. "I promise, Buffy. We're not leaving her here." One of his  
hands found one of hers and squeezed it assuringly.  
  
"You said something about leaving," Giles said, putting the issue of Willow aside for the moment.   
He came closer. "What do you know?"  
  
"A whole lot," she answered. She looked at Xander then back to Giles. "I've learned quite a bit in  
my time here, Giles."  
  
"Such as?" he prompted.  
  
"Such as how Sauron's been jetting about through time." She saw Giles's face blanch a little then  
she nodded. "Oh yeah. He has some sort of machine he's slapped together. It's stashed at Mount  
Doom - that big ass volcano out there?"  
  
Giles nodded. "Yes, I'm quite familiar with Mount Doom, Buffy."  
  
"So am I. After having climbed into the sucker."   
  
She gave them the Reader's Digest version of what she'd been through since her kidnaping. Much  
of it was difficult to retell and some parts, such as her discussion with Katil, she left out entirely.   
Soon, she reached the most recent events that placed her at Mount Doom only a few days before.  
  
"This thing was massive, Giles," she was saying as she continued to pace back and forth in front of  
him and Xander. They'd made themselves comfortable on the floor while she told her story. "And  
that's not the half of it. You want to know how Sauron's powering that thing?" She turned to them  
and gave a dramatic pause. "There's a Hellmouth inside of that volcano. And he's using the  
supernatural energies to make that device of his work."  
  
"Whoa! Whoa! Wait a minute! What are you saying, Buffy? That we're still in Sunnydale?"  
Xander interrupted as he stood up. He put one hand to his forehead as he took in this new  
information. "You know this actually makes sense. Ever since we've entered Mordor, I've had this  
weird feeling that I was already home."  
  
"I highly doubt that's the case, Xander," Giles put in then he looked up to Buffy. "Are you  
absolutely certain that what you saw was a Hellmouth, Buffy?"  
  
"Only seen one in my life, Giles, and it was pretty much the same deal out there," she replied, matter  
of factly. Her brow furrowed. "If this isn't Sunnydale of the past ... then where are we? Why  
doesn't anyone know about this Hellmouth in the future? The Council, I mean?"  
  
"It's more than likely it doesn't exist," Giles explained. He rose to his feet, the air of a Watcher  
descending overcoming his manner once again as he thought. "Sunnydale is the once place in the  
world that draws demons and vampires. No other. In my ten years in Middle-earth, I've become   
fairly sure that this place will evolve into modern day England - not California."  
  
"Let's say you're right." Xander shrugged a bit. He looked from Buffy back to Giles. "What  
happened to the Hellmouth that Sauron's sucking power from for all of these years? These things  
don't just go away on their own." A pause. "Do they?"  
  
Giles shook his head then removed his glasses to massage the bridge of his nose. "I haven't the  
slightest clue as to what could've happened to it." He replaced his glasses and focused on the two  
teenagers. "In theory, only a cataclysmic event could collapse a Hellmouth opening."  
  
"Let's hope one of those don't happen while we're here," Xander murmured.  
  
The sound of approaching footsteps caught their attention. Two Orcs appeared in the doorway,  
shoved in another person who promptly collapsed into a heap on the floor then the Orcs vanished.  
  
"It's Willow!" Xander breathed. He hurried over to her, dropping to his knees as the red head  
fought to sit up. "Willow. Hey ... Wills, it's Xander," he gently said as he helped her to sit up.   
"Are you all right? Talk to me. Let me know you're okay."  
  
"Mmm." Willow groaned as she grabbed onto Xander's clothing. Her head tilted back and she  
squinted, trying to focus on him. "Xander? Is ... where are we?"  
  
"We're in Barad-dur, Willow," he softly explained. He put an arm around her then helped her to  
her feet. "We've been here for a few days."  
  
"Giles?" she asked. A hand went to her forehead and she pressed the heel of her palm into it. The  
pain of whatever Sauron had done to remove Pallando's spell remained.  
  
"He's fine. And guess what?" Xander stopped in front of Buffy. He gestured to the blonde, smiling  
warmly. "Buffy's here. She's fine, Willow. We're all together again."  
  
Willow met Buffy's eyes. "Buffy?"  
  
The Slayer nodded. "Yes, it's me." She hugged Willow the best she could with her chained wrists.   
"I missed you so much! I thought about every single one of you every day." She stepped back and  
noticed the expression on Willow's face. She wasn't happy in the least to see her. It was rather  
hurtful - especially after the reunion she'd had with Giles and Xander. "Will ... are you sure you're  
okay?"  
  
Shaking her head, Willow pushed herself away from Xander then hobbled forward. "No," she  
sharply replied. She raised a hand when Buffy made a move to help her. "Leave me alone. I don't  
need any help from you. Any of you." She continued to take labored steps away from the other  
three.  
  
Buffy stepped away and watched Willow make her way to the base of Sauron's throne. When she  
got there, she leaned on it - more like hugged it - for support.  
  
"Will?" Xander cautiously asked as he came towards her. "What ... what happened?"  
  
Tears spilled down Willow's cheeks. All she could think about was that day when she'd killed  
Rauko - it never left her mind. It refused to leave. "I didn't mean to kill him," she whispered. Her  
hands gripped the throne and she squeezed her eyes shut. "I never wanted to hurt anybody, Xander.   
But I did. I killed that man."  
  
"Oh no," Giles whispered. His eyes were wide in shock. He blinked a few times before he looked to  
Xander and Buffy. "The spell. The one Pallando placed on Willow before she was put to sleep the  
first time the three of you were here. Sauron's removed it. Willow remembers everything about  
Rauko and the days after it." He sighed heavily when Willow began to sob. "She remembers  
everything now."  
  
Buffy turned to Xander and saw the look on his face upon hearing that. She held up her chained  
hand as he moved towards Willow. "Let me. I ... I know sorta how she feels." She made her way  
towards Willow who leaned against the throne, crying. "Will? It's ... me. It's Buffy."  
  
Willow looked over her shoulder. "Why didn't you tell me?" she asked in a whisper. When Buffy  
only stared back in reply, she asked more forcefully, "Why didn't you tell me?"  
  
Buffy winced. She didn't quite know how to answer the question. She sighed, looked to Giles and  
Xander who both hid their apprehension. "We didn't know what else to do, Willow," she finally  
replied, shifting her attention back to her. "You didn't remember anything when we woke up in  
1999, so we decided to wait. When it became obvious you didn't remember, we left it alone. What  
did you expect us to do?" She came a little closer to Willow. "You had enough to deal with after  
Sauron."  
  
Tears slipped down Willow's cheeks as she faced Buffy. "He ... he offered me a deal." She glanced  
at Giles then Xander. "If I joined him, he said he would let you all go." She swallowed hard then  
sniffled. "He said he would let you go and make me forget it all again."  
  
Xander took a few steps forward but Giles grabbed his arm and shook his head. The younger man  
did as he was instructed for once.  
  
Buffy didn't want to ask her next question but she had to do it. "What did you say, Will?" she  
whispered.  
  
Willow stared unblinkingly at Buffy for half a minute. She licked her lips then let out a long,  
agonized sigh. "I told him no," she quietly replied. "I told him that I'd rather live with it. That I  
didn't like who I'd have to thank." She pressed her lips together then offered a weak smile to her  
friend. "It's funny ..."  
  
Buffy, fresh tears brimming in her own eyes, cocked her head to one side in a curious response when  
Willow stopped mid-sentence. "What's funny, Willow?"  
  
"It wasn't as hard to say no as I thought it would be," she finished. She smiled a little wider then  
stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Buffy in a hug. "I'm so happy you're all right!" she  
managed to choke out.  
  
Smiling and crying at the same time, Buffy returned Willow's hug the best she could. "It's about  
damn time you guys got here!" she said. "I mean, it's been months! What did you do, take the  
scenic route?"  
  
"Isn't this a touching scene of reunion?" came Melek's voice echoing throughout the throne room.  
  
Buffy frowned and Willow's smile vanished as the two girls let go of one another. The Slayer  
narrowed her gaze at Melek as he strolled into the throne room, that triumphant smirk upon his face.  
  
"Buffy, is that - " Willow began but fell silent when Buffy only shook her head. She blinked and  
stared at Melek as he approached. The resemblance to Angel was nothing short of uncanny.   
Judging from the reactions of Giles and Xander, this was the first they'd seen of this man, too.  
  
"I bet that pisses you off, too, huh?" Buffy said as she folded her arms across her stomach. When  
Melek stopped in front of her, she didn't even blink. "You never believed they would get this far.   
Not you or Sauron. It's pretty amazing what friends will do for one another, isn't it?"  
  
"Yes, it's beautiful. Simply beautiful that they would travel so far just to die with you." He smiled  
upon her. "And that is what Lord Sauron plans for all of you. Slow and painful ... death."  
  
Giles glanced at Xander and placed his hand on the man's arm again to keep him from making a  
move on Melek. He would've enjoyed nothing more than to throttle the pompous prat himself but  
they were at a considerable disadvantage.  
  
"Oh, goodie. I was hoping that's what you were here for - to put us out of our misery," Buffy  
flatly replied. "I don't know how much more of your hot air I can stand."  
  
Melek snorted softly then walked towards Giles. "And you must be the 'Giles' I've heard so much  
about in the last few months." He circled behind Giles, looking him over. "I must say, I expected  
someone much more impressive. You've earned quite a name for yourself in Middle-earth, Master  
Giles. Lord Sauron has been curious about you - to see what Men have become in the future."  
  
"We haven't changed much over time," Giles evenly replied. He met Melek's gaze, trying not to be  
offset by the strong resemblance to Angel. "Some of us are honorable, some of us ... are not."  
  
"And you are still foolish as well, I see," he added. He glanced at Xander then went on. "Even in  
the future, you hold to the silly idea that evil will be defeated."  
  
"Hope has returned to Men in the future. Something that is short supply among them these days.   
That will change."  
  
Melek lightly laughed. "Or so you think," he told him. He stepped in front of Xander, noticing  
right away the hatred in the younger man's eyes. "And do you share the same foolish optimism,  
boy? Do you believe as Master Giles does that evil will one day be defeated?"  
  
"No," Xander said, causing Melek's eyebrows to raise in surprise. "I don't believe it will. I know it  
will." He looked past Melek and met Buffy's gaze. For a few moments, he gazed at her before  
adding, "If we don't give up and keep fighting, that is."  
  
He smirked slightly. "You are indeed more foolish than I originally thought," he replied. He shifted  
his attention to Buffy once more. "Lord Sauron will be victorious, Slayer. And your future will  
never exist when he's finished with Middle-earth. You'll wish you'd have accepted his offer of  
alliance when you had the chance."  
  
With that, Melek left the throne room. Buffy let out a breath then shook her head.  
  
"Who was he?" Willow asked in a slight whisper.  
  
"It doesn't matter," she quietly answered. She looked over to Giles who turned away from her. "It  
doesn't matter," she repeated.  
  
[Don't give up hope, Buffy,] Katil's voice weakly echoed in her mind. [You are not forsaken.]  
  
[It doesn't feel that way,] Buffy thought in reply.  
  
-  
  
End Chapter Seventeen 


	18. One Will Fall To His Weakness

Warning: As I've pointed out in the disclaimers for this story, if you haven't read the books or are  
unfamiliar with how Sauron falls, you probably shouldn't read this story. Especially if you want to  
be surprised by the climax of *The Return of the King*. Consider this your last warning. This  
chapter contains all of that and more. Thank you.  
  
-  
  
Chapter Eighteen  
"One Will Fall To His Weakness ..."  
  
-- The path climbed on. Soon it bent again and with a last eastward course passed in a cutting along  
the face of the cone and came to the dark door in the Mountain's side, the door of the Sammath  
Naur. Far away now rising towards the South the sun, piercing the smokes and haze, burned  
ominous, a dull bleared disc of red; but all of Mordor lay about the Mountain like a dead land,  
silent, shadow-folded, waiting for some dreadful stroke.  
  
Sam came to the gaping mouth and peered in. It was dark and hot, and a deep rumbling shook the  
air. 'Frodo! Master!' he called. There was no answer. For a moment he stood, his heart beating  
with wild fears, and then he plunged in. A shadow followed him.  
  
At first he could see nothing. In his great need he drew out once more the phial of Galadriel, but it  
was pale and cold in his trembling hand and threw no light into that stifling dark. He was come to  
the heart of the real of Sauron and the forges of his ancient might, greatest in Middle-earth; all other  
powers here were subdued. --  
  
"There!" Giles smiled as he watched the adamant shackles fall away from Buffy's wrists and to the  
floor. He sat back on his heels, sighing in relief as the Slayer massaged her wrists to help restore the  
blood flow to them. "I knew I would be able to do it. Perseverance."  
  
"Where'd you learn how to pick locks, Giles?" Willow asked as Buffy joined her where she sat  
against the wall.  
  
"Yeah, do the Elves teach you how to do that?" joked Xander.   
  
Giles shook his head. "No. That was a skill I acquired in my younger days," he replied. The smile  
crept back to his face when he saw the reactions from the three teenagers. It didn't last long, though.   
He leaned against the wall, allowing his gaze to travel up the length of Sauron's throne until it hit the  
blackness above. "It seems as though I've reached the end of my road." He paused. "My only regret  
is that I've brought the three of you along with me."  
  
- Fearfully he took a few uncertain steps in the dark, and then all at once there came a flash of red  
that leaped upward, and smote the high black roof. Sam saw that he was in a long cave or tunnel  
that bored into the Mountain's smoking cone. But only a short way ahead its floor and the walls on  
either side were cloven by a great fissure, out of which the red glare came, now leaping up, now  
dying down into darkness; and all the while far below there was a rumour and a trouble as of great  
engines throbbing and labouring. -  
  
Buffy's hands dropped into her lap as she looked upon Giles. "You shouldn't blame yourself for this,  
Giles. It wasn't your fault," she quietly told him. He lowered his gaze to her and she offered a small  
smile. "You know - I found out that it took Sauron a couple of tries to kidnap me. Oh yeah." She  
grinned a little wider. "He had to send his Orcs through more than once. That was why it all felt so  
familiar when I was kicking their asses the last time."  
  
Xander bowed his head, feeling guilty for blaming Giles for this mess for most of the journey to  
Mordor. "Buffy's right, Giles, this isn't your fault," he murmured. He lifted his head, looking over  
to Giles. He noted the guarded surprise in the ex-Watcher's eyes. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as  
he shook his head. "I'm sorry for what I said. I was wrong. I shouldn't have tried to pin this on  
you."  
  
Buffy looked from Giles to Xander, wondering exactly what had been going on during their journey  
to Mordor. She shifted her attention to Willow, who was smiling just a bit. "What's this all about?"  
she mouthed to her friend.   
  
"No, you shouldn't have," Giles replied then he softened his expression when Xander looked at him,  
eyebrows arched. His own bit of shame showed now. "I never should've said what I did to you,  
either, Xander. You're a brave young man. Braver than I ever was at your age. You couldn't have  
done anything to stop what happened, no matter how hard you tried. I was angry. You were, too.   
We said a lot of things we didn't mean. I'm sorry."  
  
"All right, it's obvious I missed a lot of stuff," Buffy said as she watched Giles and Xander embrace  
in a hug. She sighed and looked over to Willow. "You're going to tell me what that was all about  
one day, right?"  
  
Willow stared at Buffy for a moment then looked away. "Yeah, I guess so," she softly replied.   
Buffy still had this idea that they were going to escape Mordor. Sauron was confident of himself  
this time around. And who knew what had become of those who'd embarked on that quest to destroy  
the Ring?   
  
Frodo was only a Hobbit, she couldn't help but think. That Ring had to have been doing a number  
on him as well, just as it had with her. That power was more than intoxicating, it was addictive.   
She'd had her taste of it with the lesser ring on the last trip. She couldn't begin to imagine what the  
One Ring offered when the Bearer kept possession of it for as long as Frodo had.   
  
Her eyes closed.  
  
-- The light sprang up again, and there on the brink of the chasm, at the very Crack of Doom, stood  
Frodo, black against the glare, tense, erect, but still as if he had been turned into stone.  
  
'Master!' cried Sam. --  
  
Willow let out a sharp gasp when a vision of Frodo, along with his gardner, hit her. Her eyes flew  
open and her hands, palms flat, went to the sides of her head. Breathing heavily, she stared  
wide-eyed at the black floor in front of her. She'd seen them, as though they were standing in the  
throne room with them, both Frodo and Sam.   
  
Panic washed over her. An urgency she didn't understand filled her entire body. [They're here,] she  
thought then cursed herself for thinking it. What was it about them being in Mordor that caused her  
to react like this? Something was going to happen - she didn't know if it was for good or evil - but it  
was going to happen. Very soon. Too soon.   
  
"Willow?" Buffy placed a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, are you okay?" She lifted an eyebrow when  
the redhead looked at her, obvious distress on her face. "What is it?" Her hand slipped away from  
Willow's shoulder, eyes searching her friend's for some sort of clue as to what had alarmed her.   
"Will?"  
  
"I can feel him, Buffy," she whispered. She saw the confusion on Buffy's face. Leaning closer to the  
Slayer, she dropped her voice to something barely audible. "He's here."  
  
"Who?" she asked, equally soft. The fear in Willow's eyes - it was a fear that she'd never seen  
before.  
  
Willow didn't want to say the name aloud. She wondered if Sauron knew as well? What if he  
didn't? Then again, he seemed to get into her mind easily enough when he wanted to, so he probably  
already did know. He knew about how she'd felt when she'd last physically encountered Frodo and  
that was back in Rivendell, months before.  
  
"Wills, what's going on?"  
  
She shifted her attention to Xander, who now looked at her with concern. So did Giles. "We aren't  
the only ones in Mordor," she replied. Her gaze locked with Giles' and it took a moment for it to  
register with him what she meant. He sat back against the wall, turning away from her at the same  
time, murmuring some sort of prayer in Elvish.  
  
Buffy and Xander looked at one another then shrugged in unison. They weren't entirely certain who  
Willow meant. Obviously, Giles knew and he wasn't going to tell them either.   
  
– Then Frodo stirred and spoke with a clear voice, indeed with a voice clearer and more powerful  
than Sam had ever heard him use, and it rose above the throb and turmoil of Mount Doom, ringing  
in the roof and walls.  
  
'I have come,' he said. 'But I do not choose now to do what I came to do. I will not do this deed.   
The Ring is mine!' And suddenly, as he set it on his finger, he vanished from Sam's sight. --  
  
Another vision hit Willow hard.   
  
"NO!" she cried out as she jumped to her feet.   
  
For some reason, she was linked to what was happening with Frodo at Mount Doom so far away  
from Barad-dur. She whirled around to face the others who scrambled to their feet, alarmed at  
Willow's outburst. "He's not going to do it! He's keeping it for himself!" Her hands gripped the  
sides of her head again, tears welling up in her eyes. The disappointment she felt at that moment, it  
was greater than any she'd known in her life - never had she felt such despair. "He's not going to  
destroy the Ring!"  
  
"Who?" Xander asked as he grabbed Willow by the arms, shaking her, perhaps a bit too violently.   
"What the hell are you talking about? What's going on?" Before he could get his answer, he felt the  
entire Tower of Barad-dur rumble. He, along with Buffy and Giles, looked to the darkness above  
them. "Uh oh ... I think somebody's really pissed off," he whispered.  
  
"It's the Ringbearer," Giles said as he came up to Willow and Xander. He looked around then to  
Xander then Buffy. "That's who Willow is talking about. He's made it to Mount Doom."  
  
Willow shook her head. "He's going to keep it, Giles! He's going to keep it!"  
  
"What does that mean?" Xander felt more out of the loop than ever. Something apocalyptic was  
happening - again - and he had no idea what it was.  
  
The Tower rumbled once more.  
  
"I'm not waiting here to find out," Buffy declared. She gave Xander a shove towards the entrance to  
the throne room. She cast one last glance up at the abyss above them then met Giles's gaze. "Let's  
get the hell out of here - I'm tired of waiting for a hero to save us. That's not our style, anyway."   
She took Willow by the arm. "Come on, Willow, let's go."   
  
"Don't do it!" Willow cried as Buffy practically dragged her out of the throne room. "Don't!"  
[Please ... don't ... ]  
  
The four of them fled the room and sprinted through the corridors, easily weaving their way past the  
stunned Orc soldiers who were in fear of the great rumbling that shook the Tower around them.   
None of them could imagine what would have set their Dark Lord off like this - none of them could  
even dream of the drama playing itself out in the fiery heart of Mount Doom.  
  
"This way! Quick!" Buffy yelled as she directed them towards one of the downwards spiraling  
staircases she remembered from her time freely wandering about Barad-dur. She pulled Willow  
along with her as she followed Xander and Giles down the steps. "Hurry! Faster!"  
  
"I'm trying!" Xander yelled back. He stumbled a few times because he was terrified. Because of  
the shaking of the Tower, Willow's continued freak out and the fact he still had no idea what the hell  
was going on. "I could do this much easier if you would get off my back about it, Buffy!"  
  
Giles continued to pray in his mind, pray that they would escape the Tower before whatever was  
about to happen happened. His thoughts strayed to Elenya - he wondered if this was the end? Would  
he ever see her again on this plane of existence? Would he even get out of Mordor? Would any of  
them survive? Was this the end of Middle-earth's bid for freedom? [Is the future lost?]  
  
– Something struck Sam violently in the back, his legs were knocked from under him and he was  
flung aside, striking his head against the stony floor, as a dark shape sprang over him. He lay still  
and for a moment all went black.  
  
And far away, as Frodo put on the Ring and claimed it for his own, even in Sammath Naur the very  
heart of his realm, the Power in Barad-dur was shake, and the Tower trembled from its foundations  
to its proud and bitter crown. The Dark Lord was suddenly aware of him, and his Eye piercing all  
shadows looked across the plain to the door that he had made; and the magnitude of his own folly  
was revealed to him in a blinding flash, and all the devices of his enemies were at last laid bare.   
Then his wrath blazed in consuming flame, but his fear rose like a vast black smoke to choke him.   
For he knew his deadly peril and the thread upon which his doom now hung.  
  
From all his policies and webs of fear and treachery, from all his stratagems and wars his mind  
shook free; and throughout his realm a tremor ran, his slaves quailed, and his armies halted, and his  
captains suddenly steerless, bereft of will, wavered and despaired. For they were forgotten. The  
whole mind and purpose of the Power that wielded them was now bent with overwhelming force  
upon the Mountain. At his summons, wheeling with a rending cry, in a last desperate race flew  
there, faster than the winds, the Nazgul, the Ringwraiths, and with a storm of wings they hurtled  
southwards to Mount Doom. --  
  
Once free of the Tower, the attention of Buffy, Xander and Giles went to the skies. Gaping in  
wonder at the spectacle above them, they stood still as the Nazgul, mounted on winged creatures,  
flew at breakneck speed towards the volcano. Buffy looked over to Willow who still held clenched  
fists to the sides of her head. Willow's tear-reddened eyes met the Slayer's.  
  
"Willow?"   
  
"They're going for the Ring," she said. Her hands dropped to her sides. She sniffled then looked at  
Giles and Xander who turned when she'd spoke. "Sauron knows they're here now. He's going to get  
it back."  
  
The rumbling of the Tower pulled the other three back into the present.   
  
"Let's get out of here while we can," said Xander. He cast a glance back to the Tower. "Before  
somebody realizes we're gone. If this is the end of Middle-earth, I'd rather not have a front row seat  
to Sauron's coronation as Evil Dictator Ruler Guy."  
  
– Sam got up. He was dazed, and blood streaming from his head dripped in his eyes. He groped  
forward, and then he saw a strange and terrible thing. Gollum on the edge of the abyss was fighting  
like a mad thing with an unseen foe. To and fro he swayed, now so near the brink that almost he  
tumbled in, now dragging back, falling to the ground, rising, and falling again. And all the while he  
hissed but spoke no words.  
  
The fires below awoke in anger, the red light blazed, and all the cavern was filled with a great glare  
and heat. Suddenly Sam saw Gollum's long hands draw upwards to his mouth; his white fangs  
gleamed, and then snapped as they bit. Frodo gave a cry , and there he was, fallen upon his knees at  
the chasm's edge. But Gollum, dancing like a mad thing, held aloft the ring, a finger still thrust  
within its circle. It shone now as if verily it was wrought of living fire. --  
  
Willow cried out again but Buffy wouldn't allow her to stop this time. Sweeping her up, the Slayer  
slung the other girl over her shoulder and ran harder as she followed Xander and Giles through the  
gates of Barad-dur, headed away from the Tower. To where, they didn't really know. All they  
wanted at this point was to put as much distance between themselves and Sauron as possible.  
  
– 'Precious, precious, precious!' Gollum cried. 'My Precious! O my Precious!' --  
  
"Buffy!" Willow yelled.   
  
Everything was so clear. Her connection to Frodo, as one Ringbearer to another, was stronger than  
ever before. She felt everything through him - the scene in Mount Doom rolling through her mind as  
though she watched a movie that no one else could see. Some vile, little fanged creature, dancing  
about happily with the Ring - and one of Frodo's fingers still stuck within it - in his hands.  
  
The ground beyond the Tower rumbled with anger now.   
  
– And with that, even as his eyes were lifted up to gloat on his prize, he stepped too far, toppled,  
wavered for a moment on the brink, and then with a shriek he fell. Out of the depths came his last  
wail *Precious*, and he was gone. --  
  
Willow gasped loudly lifted her head. Her gaze immediately found it's way to Mount Doom. The  
reality of what had taken place finally began to settle in - the creature had taken the Ring down into  
the fires of the volcano with it. It had been destroyed. The Ring - the One Ring - had been  
destroyed.   
  
She looked to the Tower of Barad-Dur and her eyes traveled up it until they reached the very top  
from where Sauron kept watch on everything. Before her eyes, she was the only one who could  
witness this because of her position, the Tower began to crumble apart. Though they were far from  
safety yet, she felt no fear of what would happen to them. She had no further worry about anything.   
Such a peace, a peace she'd not known for many months, descended upon her. As Sauron's Power  
faded away from the land, it released itself from her mind. The Darkness that haunted her for so  
long was replaced only with the Light.   
  
Her eyes closed as she allowed herself to be bathed in the warmth of the feeling. [Thank you,] she  
thought, hoping that, somehow, her gratitude found its way to the mind of the other Ringbearer and  
his companion. [Thank you ....]  
  
And that was the last Willow remembered of Mordor.  
  
-  
  
End Chapter Eighteen  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE:  
  
** The appropriately marked sections of this chapter are taken from J.R.R. Tolkien's *The Lord of  
the Rings: The Return of The King* and used without permission.** 


	19. Prophecies Fulfilled

Chapter Nineteen  
"Prophecies Fulfilled"  
  
The last of Barad-dur crumbled behind them, yet they barely noticed as they trudged along.  
  
"I feel like we've been walking for years," Xander commented as he leaned against a nearby rock.   
He let out an exasperated sigh then wiped his forearm over his head. "I'm not taking another step. I  
refuse. In fact, I have a good reason to refuse. I can't take another step." He slid down the rock  
until he was sitting then he looked over to Giles and Buffy who placed Willow in a sitting position  
on the ground. "I take it we're going to stop for a while?"  
  
Buffy nodded then sat down beside Willow. She was concerned about her best friend. Willow had  
passed out sometime after they'd escaped Barad-dur and had yet to regain consciousness. She  
brushed the hair out of Willow's face, then sat back against the rock she and Giles had taken to  
resting against.   
  
"Do you think Willow's going to be okay, Giles?" she asked looking over to him. "She was really  
freaky when we were running away from Sauron's place. That stuff about Frodo and Sam  
and some friggin' Ring. Is that the Ring that Pallando told us about?" She felt as though  
she'd missed out on so much, being the prisoner in this whole drama.  
  
Giles nodded. "Yes. It is. Was," he corrected himself. For the first time, he realized exactly what it  
meant, that the Ring was destroyed. A smile crept to his face. "Sauron is gone forever, Buffy. He'll  
never return. Middle-earth is ... free." He shook his head, the sense of joy finally catching up with  
him. "The future is safe."  
  
"That's good news," Xander said. "But ... do you really think he's gone? I mean ... " He shrugged.   
"What if the past him tries to do it all over again? Use the machine? He could keep coming  
after Buffy. After ... Willow."  
  
"I doubt it, Xander. Sauron, in the past, doesn't know the future. He continues to believe that  
kidnaping Buffy, drawing Willow and myself to Barad-dur, and God knows what else is key  
to stopping his downfall." Giles removed his glasses and sighed heavily. His head tipped back and  
he gazed up at the skies above Mordor. They were on the fringes of the territory now but with  
Sauron's defeat, it was just a little less drab. "You can't change the past."  
  
Buffy's head lifted when she heard Giles say that. Memories of Katil stirred in her mind. "He's  
right, Xander," she quietly said. She looked over to them. "Sauron can't come after us again -  
this is all in the past." Off of the curious expressions of the other two, she repeated the words that  
Katil had said when Buffy asked why Sauron didn't go into the past, instead of the future. "His  
power has limits. No one can undo the past for it is the model for the present and the future. Can  
you remove the foundation of a house and still expect it to stand in the exact same way?"  
  
Giles blinked. He was impressed by the eloquence of his Slayer. Clearing his throat, he  
replaced his glasses upon his face. "Y-yes, that's an excellent way of phrasing it, Buffy," he replied.   
He caught Buffy's pleased smile. He thought on her words for a moment. A revelation came upon  
him. "My God ..."  
  
Xander sat up, alarmed. "What? My God what, Giles? Please, don't tell me it's more bad. I can't  
handle any more bad today."  
  
"If we take what Buffy said and ..." He shook his head, eyes growing wide as he continued to place  
all the pieces of the puzzle together. Standing, he paced back and forth, murmuring underneath his  
breath. "My God ... my God ..." His hands brushed through his thinning hair then fell to his sides as  
he turned his back on Xander and Buffy. "All of this time, we thought this was a mistake."  
  
Buffy rose to her feet. "Giles, what are you going on about?" she asked. She moved in front of him,  
worry now touching her features. She met his gaze then shrugged a bit. "Giles, what's the deal?   
Are you planning to let the rest of us in on it?"  
  
"The rip in time, the trip through Middle-earth, Sauron's kidnaping of Buffy ... it makes complete  
sense," Giles explained. He took Buffy by the upper arms, surprising her. The intensity in his eyes  
unsettled her as well. "It fits. We thought this was a mistake, but it wasn't. We were  
always meant to come here, Buffy. All of this." He let go of her when he noticed the uncomfortable  
look in her eyes. "I'm .. I'm sorry, I didn't meant to startle you."  
  
"Startle me, no. Freak me the hell out, yes." She rubbed her upper arms. "You're getting really  
scary, Giles. Can you explain it to us ... sans the freakiness?"  
  
Giles paced back and forth now, thinking on everything. "The time rip - I'd been wondering how it  
appeared out of nowhere back in 1999. The one we originally passed through to reach Middle-  
earth. Now with this information about Sauron's time machine and his using it for his own gains, it  
makes sense. That's what happened." He stopped pacing to look at the two teens. Both were still at  
a loss. "Don't you see?"  
  
Xander shook his head. "I lost you at the 'Oh my God', Giles. How was this meant to be?"  
  
"As Buffy just said, the past cannot be changed. We weren't changing the past when we arrived  
here." He paused then nodded when it became apparent that Xander and Buffy understood what he  
said. "We were always meant to pass through that portal and come here. We played a part in the  
downfall of Sauron. Somehow." His brow furrowed. "What that is, I'm not quite sure."  
  
Xander looked to Willow, who was still zonked out. "He was awfully interested in Will. Maybe  
that distracted him from the bigger picture?" he suggested. He looked over to Buffy and Giles.   
"After all, if what she told us is correct, those two Hobbits managed to slip into Mordor unnoticed.   
He was focusing his attention elsewhere."  
  
"Yes, you ... you could be right, Xander," Giles said, slowly, as he considered what the teenager had  
said. "Yes. It would ... it would be a fair assumption."  
  
The three of them stood in silence, contemplating the enormity of it all. Buffy was the first to speak  
after several minutes.  
  
"Does that mean we're going home?" she asked. "Hey, it's great that we have a future to eventually  
enjoy in our past." She paused, tried to figure out what she'd just said in her own mind then shook  
her head. "Never mind. I don't even understand what I just said. Bottom-lining it, Giles - are we  
going back or is this it?"  
  
"I honestly don't know," Giles replied, quietly. He leaned against one of the rocks and lifted his  
eyes to the sky once more. "No one knows the future."  
  
Xander wrapped his arms around his legs as he drew his knees up to his chest. "I'm gonna be really  
ticked off if I end up spending the rest of my life here."  
  
Buffy joined him on the ground, placing a hand on his shoulder as she offered a smile. "Whatever  
happens, we'll still have each other." She rolled her eyes. "How stupid did that just sound?" Her  
cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. "If anything, my sense of melodrama has increased over  
the last few months."  
  
"It's not melodramatic, Buffy, it's just the truth. We *will* have each other." He put a hand on  
hers then returned her smile. "But still ... an existence without television? Comic books? For the  
love of God and all that is holy, a life with no *Star Wars*?" A pained whimper followed. "G-  
Man, you have to get us home," he added looking back to him.  
  
"We have to get out of Mordor first," Giles replied.  
  
"Perhaps I could help you there, wayward travelers," said a voice from above them.  
  
Giles turned and his face lit up in a smile unlike no other that Buffy had seen before. Maybe on par  
with ones that he had when Jenny Calendar was alive. "Elenya," he breathed. He'd never  
thought he'd lay eyes on her again but here she was. Worn from battle and travel, yet nevertheless,  
here she stood in Mordor. In the flesh.  
  
Elenya hopped down from the rock she'd been standing upon then wrapped her arms around Giles.   
"You would not believe the journey I made to be here," she murmured. "When the Dark Lord fell,  
it was felt throughout Middle-earth. She said that I must join you here, my love, that it was my  
destiny."  
  
Buffy smiled then looked away when Giles and Elenya kissed. Her eyes met Xander's then  
she felt her face flush. Her gaze traveled back to the two adults, still holding tightly to one another,  
gazing into each others eyes.   
  
"We're glad to see you, too, Elenya," she dared to say. She smiled wider when both of them looked  
to her. She waved. "Yeah. Hi. Other people are still existing around here, guys."  
  
Elenya returned the smile but it faded when she saw Willow, who was unconscious and leaning  
against a boulder. "What is the matter with Willow?" she inquired as she took a few steps towards  
Buffy and Xander. She glanced back to Giles who only shrugged. "I have worried for her since her  
return to Middle-earth. Is she injured?"  
  
"No, she just passed out a couple miles back," Xander assured Elenya, jerking his thumb behind  
him, indicating Barad-dur which was far from sight. "She was acting really weird before. I guess  
she's okay now. We haven't been able to wake her up. Between us, I'd rather let her rest. She  
hasn't had it easy the past few months."  
  
Elenya nodded. "Yes, perhaps that is for the best, Xander," she agreed. She shifted her attention to  
Buffy. "And you, Buffy. Are you well?" She came closer, reaching a hand out to her sister Slayer  
which then rested on the young woman's cheek. "Few survive Sauron's imprisonment, free of scars."  
  
"I'll be all right," Buffy quietly replied, looking away from Elenya. "It's over. Isn't that what  
matters?" For the first time since their escape, she wondered what had become of Melek. He  
must've been inside the Tower when it crumbled and perished along with the rest of the forces holed  
up at Barad-dur.  
  
"She said he told you about us," Elenya said. She raised her brow when Buffy met her gaze,  
surprised. "Yes. You know of whom I speak. The one before me."  
  
"Katil," Buffy whispered, her eyes wide now.  
  
"She sent me to you. She told me that I must find you here." Her hand fell away from Buffy's  
cheek, a sadness in her eyes now. "You should not think less of yourself as a Slayer for what has  
happened to you."  
  
"It certainly doesn't boost my ego, Elenya," she murmured. "And don't say that it was meant to  
happen." She bowed her head. "That doesn't help, either."  
  
"Buffy - " Elenya stopped, her head whipping around as she sensed something. It was close. Evil.   
"Buffy, get down!" As she grabbed the younger Slayer by the arms, she pivoted to the left, moving  
the girl with her. The whistle of an arrow caught the attention of Xander and Giles but before either  
of them could determine the origin, it happened.  
  
"Elenya!" Buffy said but gasped sharply when the point of an arrow burst through the front of the  
other Slayer's chest. She blinked then looked from it to Elenya herself. "Elenya?"   
  
The surprise in Elenya's eyes melted into acceptance, then, strangely, a smile appeared on her face.   
"I understand now," she whispered. She dropped to her knees, bringing Buffy down to the ground  
with her.  
  
"Elenya," Buffy said again, tears welling up in her eyes. She swallowed. One of her hands reached  
for the head of the arrow that glistened with blood. "I'm so sorry. This is my fault."  
  
She shook her head, the smile growing wider. "No, it is destiny," she replied. She gasped. "Buffy  
... "  
  
"You thought you would escape me, Slayer?" Melek's voice called out. A laugh followed and he  
drew another arrow from his quiver. "You and I have unfinished business."  
  
Buffy's hand reached for Elenya's bow. Her eyes narrowing on Melek as he repositioned himself to  
get a clearer shot at her. "Yes, we do. Don't we?" she growled.  
  
"Buffy, don't!" Xander exclaimed as he took a few steps towards her. He froze when Melek  
leveled his gaze on him. "Buffy, you know what could happen if you do it." He felt Giles come up  
beside him. He glanced at the ex-Watcher - an indescribable expression was on his face. He  
couldn't imagine what was going through the man's mind. Well, he actually could, and to let him  
act upon those thoughts wouldn't do anyone any good. "Don't."  
  
Her fingers wrapped around the bow and Melek's face cracked into a sadistic grin when she did.   
"Yes, you want to kill me, don't you, my pretty maid?" he murmured. His own fingers flexed then  
he placed the butt of the arrow to his own bowstring.   
  
Buff's eyes closed. [I have to do this. It's for Elenya. It's for me.]  
  
[You are not suppose to do this, Buffy,] Kail's voice answered. [It is not your destiny. Let go.   
Allow me to fulfill mine. You must trust me. If you do not, you and your friends will surely  
perish.]  
  
"Buffy -" Xander stopped, his eyes widening as the Slayer, bow in hand, rose up to her full height.  
  
"You do not kill humans, Buffy," Melek called out. He laughed, the sound of it echoing amongst  
the rocks.  
  
The Slayer threw her head back, bow and arrow in her hands in front of her. The girl standing in  
front of them, however, was no longer a blonde-haired, fair-skinned Buffy Summers. "I am not  
Buffy," Katil evenly replied as her eyes locked with Malek's. She raised the bow, taking aim on the  
stunned man before her. "Brother."  
  
Her hand released the string and the arrow cut through the air like a knife. Before Melek could  
react, the arrow ripped through his neck, causing a sudden red gush of blood. Both of his hands flew  
to the mortal wound but it didn't matter. He was dead before his body hit the ground.   
  
Katil lowered the bow, slowly, a feeling of satisfaction within her. She looked over her shoulder to  
Xander and Giles. Xander's mouth was partially hanging open, dumbstruck by what had just  
happened. "Fear not for your love, Alexander," she calmly told him. "It was not she who has slain  
that man. She only provided me with the vessel to do so myself."  
  
The girl's eyes rolled back in her head and the bow clattered to the ground as she let it go. With a  
tired sigh, the form of Katil morphed back into that of Buffy. The Slayer's legs began to buckle  
underneath her.  
  
"Buffy!" Xander bounded forward to catch her before she fell. When she collapsed into his arms,  
he cradled her close to him. "Buffy ..." He brushed her hair away from her face and looked deep  
into her eyes when they opened. His hand rested upon the pale cheek of the girl he loved more than  
anything. "Is ... is that you?"   
  
"I think so," she whispered. She shakily stood on her own two feet. "What happened?" Without  
waiting for his answer, she turned. "Giles?" Her heart sank at what she saw before her. Giles,  
kneeling on the ground, the body of Elenya cradled in his arms. He rocked back and forth, slightly,  
but she didn't hear him crying. She didn't need to hear it, though.   
  
"I'm sorry," Giles said as he drew Elenya's body closer. "I'm so very sorry, Elenya." First Jenny,  
now her. Both murdered coldly. Both by Angelus. Well, Melek wasn't exactly Angelus, but he  
certainly wasn't any better. And Giles faulted himself for them both. He should've been a better  
protector. "I'm sorry."  
  
Buffy took a step towards him, a hand reaching out but she froze when the screech of some sort of  
bird came from above them. Instantly, three heads cocked back and eyes searched the skies for the  
origins of the cry. Then Buffy saw it - large eagles. Two of which carried passengers.   
  
"They're coming this way," Xander said as he placed a hand on Buffy's shoulder. He glanced up  
again. "I think they're gonna get us out of Mordor."  
  
She nodded. "The sooner the better," she murmured. She'd had enough of this adventure.   
  
Enough of Mordor.   
  
Enough of everything.  
  
End Chapter Nineteen 


	20. Hope Lives Again

Chapter Twenty  
"Hope Lives Again"  
The sun rose early, stealing Buffy away from her uneasy slumber. She awoke with a yawn and sat  
in bed for several minutes before mustering the strength to get up. Her possession by Katil left her  
drained, even days later.  
  
[How many days has it been?] Buffy wondered with a frown. She barely remembered anything after  
their escape from Barad-Dur, it had all blurred together. Everything had been so confused - the  
flight with the Eagles, landing outside of Mordor, marching south with the battered but victorious  
army of the West.  
  
She stood up and padded over to the trunk with her clothes in it, and quickly dressed herself.  
  
A moment later, she emerged from the oversized tent, blinked a few times to adjust to the full light  
of day, and looked around for Giles.  
  
As usual, he was hovering at the King's side - Aragorn, the King? Buffy shook her head. On some  
level, it made sense, she'd always sensed something a bit off about Aragorn, but still...   
  
[Not my problem,] Buffy decided, still too tired to concern herself with anything except how they  
were going to get home.  
  
Which lead to Giles. She slipped past the two guards and into the small clearing that had been made  
into the King's council chambers - a long wooden table under a large tent.  
  
"Ah, Lady Summers," Aragorn said, nodding respectfully at her. At a glance from him, all the  
others save Giles and Gandalf departed. "Good morning."  
  
[Lady Summers,] she thought. [I don't know what I've done to get a title.] Yet, that was the way of  
people here. She stifled a yawn, embarrassed, and made a half-hearted curtsey. "Good morning -  
your highness," she added, remembering Giles' vague etiquette lessons. "Giles, Gandalf."  
  
"We were hoping you'd join us," Giles said. "Willow too, but she's gone off for a walk, it seems."   
For a second, he frowned, feeling for the young redhead. The guilt of what she'd done to Rauko, and  
her temptation by Sauron, was still haunting her, even if less and less by the day.  
  
"All right. I'm here." Buffy joined them at the table, which was covered with maps of all  
Middle-earth, as well as a few yellowing scrolls in Elvish script. "Any progress?"  
  
Giles shook his head. "I'm afraid not. Sauron's device was, predictably enough, utterly destroyed by  
the explosion that annihilated Mt. Doom."  
  
Buffy nodded. Not a big surprise. By all accounts, everything within twenty miles of the volcano  
was gone for good. "Okay." She turned to Gandalf. "Can't you do the spell? The one Pallando cast  
the first time?"  
  
The elderly Wizard only shook his head. "I haven't the power or the authority for such things now.   
And even if I did, it would not avail you. My time in Middle-earth is fast coming to an end."  
  
Buffy looked up sharply. "You're not - "  
  
"No," Gandalf assured her, smiling just a little. "Merely returning home at long last."  
  
"Oh." Buffy stared down at the map in front of her. The revelation of just who - or, rather, what -  
Gandalf was still had her a bit unnerved. The whole idea of actually *meeting* one of the Powers,  
face to face… "So what are you all saying? There's no way back home?"  
  
"We'll find a way, Buffy," Giles said, but it was a statement utterly lacking in conviction. From the  
look on his face, which was more miserable than usual these days, Giles was just as aware of that as  
Buffy was.   
  
[Great,] Buffy thought, still staring at the map, as if somehow California would appear on it if she  
glared long enough. "I can't believe we survived Sauron and Mordor just to get stuck here," she  
muttered. She hated to make it sound like she didn't appreciate all that Aragorn and the others had  
done to make them feel comfortable upon joining them, but the idea of being there forever wasn't  
one she liked to dwell on. "With all the magic in this place, you'd think somebody could get us out  
of here."  
  
"If there is a way, it may be found in Minas Tirith," Aragorn suggested after a moment. "Much  
ancient lore remains there, even in these days," he said, sharing a quick smile with Gandalf.  
  
Her head lifted, hope returning again, even if briefly. "Minas Tirith?"  
  
"Yes - yes, you might be right," Giles said. "Perhaps some record of the device - if it dates back to  
before Sauron's defeat by the Last Alliance," he continued, and Buffy's eyes began to glaze over as  
the history lesson commenced. Eventually, though, Giles was interrupted by a runner from  
Gondor, and Buffy was able to make her escape.  
  
-  
  
Willow had settled herself upon the large rock, staring off into the South for quite some time. She  
had to get away from the others. Since leaving Mordor, she was self-conscious. And ashamed.   
Ashamed that she'd almost given into Sauron when he offered her the chance to forget about Rauko  
forever. The others did not know just how close she'd come.   
  
Sighing, she lowered her head. She didn't know what she'd do if they were trapped in Middle-earth  
for the rest of their days. It was more than just not being in the correct time, she had so much  
waiting for her in that time period. Oz, being the most important to her. She wanted to talk to him  
desperately. Talk about what had happened to them - what had happened to her. He would  
understand. He always did. He was like that.  
  
"Will?"  
  
Her head jerked up at the sound of Xander's voice. "Hey," she softly greeted, forcing a smile.   
"What are you doing out here?"  
  
He took a seat on the rock with her then shrugged. "Thought you might want a little company.   
Besides, Giles is with Aragorn and the others, going over the long and boring history of some place  
called 'Minas Tirith'. Not my scene." He offered a smile which faded after a moment. "What  
about you? What are you doing way out here?"  
  
She brushed a lock of hair over her ear as her gaze shifted to the ground. "Thinking."  
  
He nodded. "Mmm hmm. About what? Care to share?"  
  
"Nothing much. Just the last few days, really." She sniffed, still avoiding his attempts to make eye  
contact with her. "I'm not getting all freaky again, Xander. I promise. Sauron is gone. I felt it way  
back in Mordor - he hasn't any power over me any longer."  
  
"Wasn't concerned about Sauron, Will. You stood up to him back at the Tower." He placed a hand  
on her shoulder, squeezing it lightly. "Hey, would you look at me?" He waited for her to turn her  
head then he let his arm slide around her shoulders, pulling her a little closer. "Don't do this.   
Don't shut us out. You're not alone, you know. We may not understand everything you went  
through but we're here for you just the same. We need you, Willow. I need you."  
  
With a small smile, she placed a hand on one of his. "Thanks, Xander."  
  
"That's what I'm here for. Support Guy." After a moment, he let out a breath. His eyes scanned  
the skyline to the West. The sun was hanging low in the sky. Evening would be upon them very  
soon. Even with Sauron gone, it wouldn't be safe to wander about the land. "What do you say we  
take a walk around? Be nice to see Middle-earth without the cloud of Sauron hanging over it."  
  
"Yes," she agreed. "Yes, it most certainly would."  
  
-  
  
Buffy opened her eyes and smiled as warm rays of light filled her vision.  
  
Slowly, she stood up, yawning just a little. Buffy looked around and frowned in confusion. This  
  
wasn't Ithilien.   
  
Instead of the forest camp, she was standing on a soft sandy beach. At her back, there were green  
hills that rose up into dark, tree-covered mountains. Ahead, the Sea, endless and blue. Buffy took a  
step towards it, drawn by the rhythm of the waves, when a voice rang out.  
  
"Stay!" it said, and Buffy instantly froze. A light appeared on the western horizon, faint but growing  
brighter by the second, as if the Sun was rising up, backwards. She bowed her head to avoid the  
burning brightness.   
  
"Look upon me, little one, and fear not."   
  
As commanded - however gently - Buffy looked up. Standing there was a tall woman with radiant  
golden hair and a silk dress of flowing yellow and orange patterns. She smiled warmly at Buffy, and  
the Slayer noticed that her eyes were nearly the same color as her hair - a startling effect, but not  
frightening. Not compared to other Eyes Buffy had seen in Middle-earth.  
  
"Why do you wander, little daughter?" the woman asked, her voice softer by far than the fierce light  
in her eyes. "Where do you go?"  
  
Buffy looked up, if only for a second, and shook her head. "Home," was all she could offer.   
  
"Then you truly are lost, for Westward lies your road, not the South, even in spring, when all the  
world is born again."  
  
Before Buffy could even begin to ask what that meant, the light grew ever brighter, a white glow  
that drowned out all else, and then she awoke.  
  
Willow was lying nearby, also awake. "Bad dream?" she asked Buffy.  
  
"I'm not sure," Buffy replied uncertainly. Even now, the dream was fading away, and all she could  
remember were the burning eyes of the golden-haired woman. [Some prophecy dream...] It took her  
a good while to get back to sleep, and the dream did not come again.  
  
When morning came, she decided not to tell them about it, somehow sensing that it wasn't time yet.  
On top of that, she really had nothing to say. Besides, they had a lot of ground to cover before  
winter fell across Middle-earth. A long journey. It was times like these she really missed 1999.   
And times like these when she wondered if she'd ever see it again.   
  
-  
  
They marched for weeks, days dragging into days, and the spring sun warmed into summer. At last,  
the army saw the welcome slopes of the White Mountains at their right, and soon enough, the  
unbroken spires of the White City could be seen far off in the distance.  
  
"Whoa. Is that for real?" Xander asked when they came close enough to Minas Tirith to make out its   
distinct shape - seven separate levels, each larger than any town they'd seen in Middle-earth - bored  
into the hillside in an awe-inspiring feat of architecture.  
  
"It's quite real," Giles replied, smiling and bowing his head a little.   
  
He'd only been to the great capital of Gondor twice in all his years in Middle-earth, and seeing it still  
touched him. It, not the Shire or even the Elf realms, was the visible symbol of what he and Elenya  
had fought to preserve. And now, at last, it was safe. At least from Sauron's grasp. He hoped the  
other demons lurking in the wild would stay at bay and let the West enjoy a measure of peace, but  
he doubted it. There was a reason the Slayer line stretched through all the centuries up to Buffy and  
her era.   
  
"With any luck, we'll find your way home there," he added, although as he saw how badly the city  
had been damaged, his hopes fell a little. What if the very scroll they needed had been destroyed in  
the battle?  
  
"I'm sure we will," Buffy absently agreed, her attention fixed on the grandeur of Minas Tirith. She'd  
never seen anything like it. Even battered and burnt as it was, it was still a breath-taking sight. "It's  
huge."  
  
"Well, yeah, but it's not any bigger than Sunnydale, I bet," Willow pointed out then hastily added  
"But a lot cooler. Plus - no Hellmouth, so, winning that category, too."  
  
They entered the city in a place of honor in the great parade of troops, behind Aragorn and the  
famous Hobbits, but still among exalted company, and to the deafening cheers of the people of the  
great city.   
  
"They can't possibly know who we are," Buffy said - yelled, really - to Xander as they made their  
way up the great lane that threaded through each of the city's ascending gates.  
  
"Who cares?" Xander replied, grinning and waving, especially at the many Gondorim maidens who  
were tossing flowers down at the army.  
  
"It's not - " Buffy gave up. There was no way she could explain herself in all this riot. But looking  
at Giles, she knew what he must feel, and who was the one who deserved all the honors.  
  
Later, much later, the festivities broke down into a hundred different parties and celebrations, and  
Buffy and company were able to slip away. King Elessar had arranged for each of them to be given  
lavish quarters bordering on one of the city's great gardens, and the four travelers were happy to  
have real beds, not to mention baths, after so many months of travel and torment.  
  
The parties lasted for the better part of a week, but of the four, only Xander and Buffy really joined  
them. Giles and Willow were still too deep in their own griefs to enjoy the revelry, and both of  
them were also busy hunting the ancient archives in search of a clue, no matter how vague, that  
would reveal a way back to the 20th century.   
  
As the days wore on, both of them grew discouraged - much had been lost in the war and the long  
years of Gondor's decline. Neither admitted it, but the odds of finding a way home grew remoter by  
the day and, soon enough, they spent less and less time in the archives each day. If there was an  
answer, it didn't lie there.  
  
-  
  
When he heard footsteps ringing on the stone pathways of the ancient Garden, Giles did his best to  
ignore it. Buffy and the others never came here, the new King never went anywhere without a much  
noisier retinue, and, frankly, Giles didn't care to see anybody else.  
  
[Nobody else upon these shores, at any rate.]  
  
Being alone gave him time to reflect. Reflect upon that day when Elenya took an arrow for Buffy.   
The day she died. All so familiar, yet so new to him. Two women he dearly loved in his life had  
given theirs in order to help his Slayer, in order to help Buffy. He was relieved to have Buffy alive  
but he would've preferred to have Elenya with him as well.   
  
During his time as a Watcher, he learned some very hard lessons. These sort were the hardest to  
absorb.  
  
He ignored the footsteps even as they drew closer and slipped through a gap in the hedge wall,  
hoping that would perhaps buy him some more privacy. Even as he did so, though, he heard the  
footsteps stop and then continue, heading towards him by a different path.  
  
Perhaps not, then. Giles sighed and stopped. If whoever it was wanted to find him, it was a bit  
childish to keep ducking away. Especially if they kept following him. He frowned, hoping it really  
wasn't the King, without his retinue for once.  
  
"Who is it?" he called out, somewhat anxious now.  
  
"Halín of the Guard, lord..." There was a muffled comment, from another speaker apparently, and  
then Halín added "With a guest."  
  
[A guest?] Frowning again, Giles headed towards the sound of the voices. Sure enough, there was  
Halín, a familiar face by now, and a young girl, perhaps a year or two older than Buffy.   
  
"Yes?" Giles asked, staring at the two of them. The girl's clothing, a blue silk robe and long  
embroidered scarf, marked her as well-to-do. One of the innumerable petty aristocrats of the city, or  
a provincial?  
  
Provincial, he guessed. Her skin and hair were just a shade darker than the norm for these parts. And  
she had a dagger at her side.  
  
"Lord Giles, this is - " Halín hesitated and glanced at the girl.  
  
"Ára," she supplied impatiently. "Of Amon San in Anfalas."  
  
Provincial it was. Probably came to the city for the coronation. But why was she *here*? Still  
annoyed at being chased down, he started to ask her that, point-blank, but before he could, she  
continued, blurting out "Ára the Slayer."  
  
"Oh." Giles stared at her for a moment. "That'll be all, Halín."  
  
The guard nodded and stalked back down the hedge maze, glad to wash his hands of this  
strangeness.  
  
"Well." Ára stared at Giles, apparently waiting on him.   
  
He obliged her after a moment's pause to gather his thoughts "You're -   
  
"The Slayer, yes," Ára said with a nod. She gave him a long, searching look, then smiled shyly. "I  
hardly know where to begin."  
  
"Well, you could begin by telling me who you are - beyond your name -and how you found me,"  
Giles suggested.  
  
"She told me you would be here," the girl replied.  
  
"She..." Giles squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. There could be only one 'she' here. "She came to  
you?"  
  
Ára, betraying a hint of real emotion for the first time, nodded fervently. "In a dream, on the very  
day that the Darkness broke," she told him. "I thought she was one of the Valar, she was so bright  
and fair, but she told me - well, told me all. Who I am - who we are - our destiny, our cause, all  
of it."  
  
"What did she tell you?"  
  
"That she misses you. I am sorry, but she said only that," Ára said. "She bade me tell you that all the  
rest would have to wait until you met again beyond the circles of the world."  
  
"She would," Giles muttered, but with a sad smile. "Well... Thank you," he said after a moment.  
  
"Wait - " Ára grabbed Giles by the arm, squeezing with enough strength to convince him she truly  
was a Slayer. "You must help me," she said, a hint of steel in her voice. It was a command more than  
a request. She reminded him, painfully, of Elenya, but without his beloved's poise and humor.  
  
As if sensing Giles' thoughts, Ára hastily released Giles' arm. "Forgive me. But - Please! I need your  
help. I cannot do this alone. I really don't know where to begin!" she pleaded. "I've never killed  
anything - never fought anything - you have to help me."  
  
"I - " Giles stared down at the frantic young woman. He could only imagine that's how Buffy was  
when she met her first Watcher, Merrick. The one who explained what the Slayer was and gave her  
the first lessons of combat. It was all in her eyes - the fear, the apprehension, the need for another  
person. This was desperation he'd seen a few times from Buffy, but only when she was truly against  
the wall. "All right. I'll help. First, I think you need to meet Buffy."  
  
"Lady Buffy! Yes!" Ára's eyes lit up. "I would very much like to meet my sister," she added in a  
more subdued tone, when Giles glanced curiously at her.  
  
The ex-Watcher hid his smile.  
  
-  
  
"You're the new one?" Buffy asked, eyeing her counterpart across the room. Wasn't much to the  
girl, she had to admit. Of course, there wasn't much to her when she was tapped for this job. She'd  
need help, that much was certain. The girl was frightened, even if she hid it well.  
  
Ára nodded, sizing Buffy up in turn. After a moment, they both nodded in unison, some silent  
communication passing between them.  
  
"She's the one," Buffy said to Giles, Willow and Xander.  
  
"How - " Xander began to ask, stopping when Willow shook her head. "How'd you get here?" he  
asked instead.  
  
"I rode from Anfalas, setting out the morn of the very day she came to me," the young Slayer  
answered. "I thought I would never see the City, never meet you," she said, looking at Buffy and  
Giles in turn. "I thought you would have gone on your way already, gone back home to your own...  
time..." she concluded, clearly a bit puzzled by the whole concept.  
  
Giles stirred uncomfortably in his seat. "Well... you needn't worry about that," he told her, and she  
frowned, puzzled.  
  
"But - " Ára saw the looks on the others faces and nodded. "I see."  
  
"I guess Giles is Watcher Guy again," Xander whispered to Willow.  
  
Ára and Buffy both heard. The dark-haired Slayer looked over to Giles. "Watcher, sir?"  
  
Giles looked up sharply. "Elenya didn't tell you?"  
  
"No, my lord."  
  
"Oh. A Watcher - "  
  
"Watches."  
  
"Xander, please, don't help."  
  
"Sorry."  
  
Giles shook his head, ignoring the amused looks on everyone else's faces. "A Watcher is like a  
mentor, a teacher, to the Slayer. He instructs her in her duties and her destiny, and helps her learn   
about the monsters she must fight."  
  
"What is there to learn? Fire and sun, blade and bow, fist and faith," she recited. "The six kill all."  
  
Giles, Xander, Buffy and Willow all stared at the young Slayer, and she stared coolly right back at  
them.  
  
Finally, Buffy smiled. "Ára - right? - let's talk. C'mon."  
  
The two Slayers departed together.  
  
"So... you're really going to stay. Again."  
  
"Willow, I - " Giles rose and walked over to her. "I can't go back. Especially not now." He tried to  
smile. "Once a Watcher, always a Watcher, I suppose. And besides, this is home now. I could never  
handle leaving it, going back to Sunnydale. You three will manage."  
  
"Oh, yeah, cuz we were doing so great the last few months," Willow bitterly pointed out. "Sauron  
kidnapped Buffy. Who knows what'll happen next?"  
  
"Sauron is dead, Willow. He won't trouble you again. I assure you."  
  
Willow nervously rubbed her fingers for a few seconds, then relaxed. "Okay. But there's like a  
million other demons and monsters there back home. We can't - we don't know how - "  
  
"You'll learn how. Willow, believe me. You'll never be expected to do more than you can. And that's  
enough."  
  
"Great, now he's a Jedi, too," Xander said. "But the man has a point. We can't keep hiding behind  
him and his books forever, Willow."  
  
"Mm. Thank you, Xander."  
  
Willow sighed, recognizing she was beaten. "I had to try," she mumbled.  
  
"I know." Giles smiled fondly. "And thank you."  
  
-  
  
Out on the great avenue, Ára and Buffy walked aimlessly and silently under the shade of the birch  
trees. They'd talked a little in the beginning, telling each other about their lives - as best they could,  
anyway, considering the enormous cultural gap between them - and a little about their common  
purpose. But now they just walked, enjoying the day - the first bright afternoon Ára had ever seen in  
the city of Kings, and the last Buffy would ever see there.  
  
Ára finally broke the silence. "How long - "  
  
"Four years, more or less," Buffy replied. "Not that much compared to Elenya, huh?" Perhaps it  
wasn't much in a matter of actual years but she had to truly think to remember a time before being  
Slayer. That life became more and more distant as the days rushed by. And then, when the time  
was right, her days would stop all together.   
  
"Your time is just beginning, I think," Ára said with a shrug. "I did not tell Giles, not yet, but she  
told me that you have great potential within you."  
  
"Really?" Buffy beamed. "Coming from her, I'm honored. Thank you." She only wished she could  
last half as long as Elenya as Slayer. Of course, if she never made it home, she'd have to finish out  
her days in the past. It wasn't her idea of fun but the alternative it presented her was most  
interesting. If stuck there, she could lay off being Slayer when she wanted to. Enjoy things she  
couldn't in the future. Normality. Life. Love.  
  
"There's so much else I want to ask you."  
  
She snapped out of her thoughts then nodded. She remembered how it felt in the beginning. "Giles  
will help you. He's very wise and stuff..." She wished she could explain what Giles had done for her  
in a better way but she didn't quite know how. How did one put into words a relationship such as  
theirs? That she owed her life to him. To her friends. She could feel it but not express it in such  
terms.  
  
"Don't worry, I know." Ára looked over at her fellow Slayer for a second. She noticed the  
expression on Buffy's face. The uneasiness. Her own softened a bit, her voice becoming slightly  
more comforting. "I won't let anything happen to him, either. I promise you."  
  
"Thanks," Buffy said, marvelling at the sudden bond between them. It hadn't been like this with  
Elenya, not really. Nor Katil, of course, but that was really different. It wasn't that way with Kendra  
or Faith, either. For once, Buffy was the mentor and someone else looked to her for help. She felt  
the need to protect the new Slayer, to give her everything she would need to be able to survive for as  
long as she had.  
  
"You do not wish for him to remain behind, do you?" Ára asked. It didn't really come off as a  
question, though. She stopped when Buffy did and arched her eyebrows as the elder Slayer turned to  
her. "I can hear it in your voice. Not only when you speak about him but about anything. I know  
the tone of heartarche, Buffy. All of my people have suffered so much of it over the years. For so  
many years."  
  
"Honestly? No. I don't want him to stay here. I didn't want him to the first time either." She  
ignored the moment of confusion on Ára's face. Apparently, there were things that Elenya did not  
tell her. "He told me that I was ready to go on without him. I'd learned all I could from him. He  
never once stopped to think that maybe it was more than that he knows that I need." Her head  
lowered. "You see ... he's the only real type of father I've ever had. I don't want to give that up. If  
it's selfish, then I'm guilty. Can you blame me?"  
  
Ára shook her head. "No. Have you considered that he may not have wanted to give you up, either,  
Buffy?" She tilted her head to one side when the other Slayer looked at her.   
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"As hard as it was for you to accept his staying, don't you believe it was just as difficult for him to  
choose to stay behind?"  
  
"Well." She shifted in place as she bit her lower lip. "I hadn't really thought about it that way.   
That was different, though. He had Elenya to stay behind for."  
  
"And he had you to return for." She placed a hand gently on Buffy's shoulder. "You have things in  
your time that he knew he could trust to protect and help you. Perhaps you treat his decision much  
more lightly than it deserves."  
  
Buffy sighed heavily. Maybe she had. It still didn't do much to ease the pain she would feel when -  
or if - they were forced to go their separate ways once again.   
  
"I believe there are things that Master Giles must do here that will benefit so many people. I don't  
know I feel this way ..." A hand rested against her breast. "It's just ... here. Inside of me." Her  
eyes met Buffy's again and she offered her a warm smile. "If you search yourself long enough,  
perhaps you shall feel it too?"  
  
"Maybe," she softly replied. Even so, Ára had given her much to think about along the way to  
wherever their road would lead them. She felt a sudden chill. "Ready to go back now?"   
  
Ára nodded, too lost in her own thoughts to notice Buffy's shifting mood. "Let's go. Sister."  
  
-  
  
End Chapter Twenty 


	21. Past, Present and Future

Chapter Twenty-One  
"Past, Present and Future"  
  
Buffy stirred, restless even atop the goosefeather mattress. She tossed and turned, then gave up and  
sat up in bed. Upon opening her eyes, though, she realized she wasn't in Minas Tirith any more.   
  
Once again, she was standing on the shores of the sea, and the sun was bright on the western horizon.   
  
In a flash, Buffy remembered all the details of the first dream. At that same instant, the lady with the  
burning eyes appeared off to the side.  
  
She smiled at Buffy, for a moment, but it was a sad smile.  
  
"Little one... Too long have you lingered on the wrong road. Spring is gone and summer is waning.  
You must make haste now if you will find the way before winter comes..."  
  
"I don't understand!" Buffy protested. "Where do I have to go?"  
  
"Seek ye the shores of Mithlond before autumn fades into winter greys, and then your path will be  
clear... Let the bright light of my love open the door."  
  
Before Buffy could ask any of the dozen questions forming in her mind, the vision ended, in a bright  
burst of light as it had before.  
  
She stared out the window for a moment, looking down upon the Anduin as it glittered in the waning  
light of the crescent moon.  
  
The moon...  
  
Buffy frowned. Something was important there. Something Giles had said. No, something that  
Willow had said Giles had said. But what?  
  
Then, suddenly, she remembered.   
  
Buffy jumped out of bed and hurried to Giles' room. She pounded on it twice. "Giles! Wake up!"  
  
A moment later, a very sleepy-looking Giles opened the dented door. "Buffy, what on Earth?" he  
said, blinking at her. "What's the matter?"  
  
"I just had another one of those poetical prophecy dreams, that's what," she answered. "I know how  
to get home. I know when we can do it, and I know where the gate is."  
  
"All right, slow down... Where - "  
  
"Mithlond!" She stared at him for a second, then frowned. "What's Mithlond?"  
  
-  
  
"The Grey Havens? Sounds like a nice vacation spot," Xander said, then yawned. Giles had  
convinced Buffy it could wait until morning, but she'd used a very liberal definition of morning  
when coming to wake them all up.  
  
"It is, actually," Giles replied. "Or so I'm told. It's an Elven port, far in the north, not all that far from  
the Shire. They set sail to the West from there." He, Buffy and Ára all turned and looked out the  
westward-facing window for a second, then smiled self-consciously at Willow and Xander.  
  
"Okay, that's great," Xander said. "Two questions. One, how do we get there. Two, how do we get  
there before winter? It must take months to get from here to the Shire, and if this place is even  
farther..." He left the obvious conclusion unsaid.  
  
"Can we get the Eagles to come help again?" Willow asked.  
  
Giles shook his head, shooting down that hopeful theory. "The Eagles wouldn't, even if we knew a  
way to contact them. They're... well, particular."  
  
Ára gently cleared her throat. "Excuse me, sir. But there is a simpler way."  
  
"What?" Buffy asked, glancing over at the other Slayer. Ára seemed to have a habit of keeping her  
mouth shut around everyone except Buffy and Giles unless it was important.  
  
"If we can't ride, we sail," the dark-haired girl suggested. "It's only a few days to the Sea, even by  
barge," she pointed out, then leaned back against the wall, apparently thinking that was all that  
needed to be said.  
  
Xander, for one, wasn't quite satisfied. "Okay... and we pay for this, how? Or do they have public  
transportation in Gondor?"  
  
"What?" Ára frowned, confused. Then she waved her hand at Buffy. "She need only ask the King.  
How could he refuse the Slayer such a small favor?"  
  
-  
  
As it turned out, it was nearly that easy. Actually getting an audience with King Elessar took longer  
than the request itself, a request he happily granted. The new King did not forget the deeds of Buffy  
and her companions, small as they may have been in the overall course of the War.   
  
A small ship, with a good crew, was given to the heroes, and on a cool morning late in April, they set  
sail from the white city, making their way down the Anduin once again. The going was slow at first,  
for the wind was against them, but after several days, the ship finally passed through the great delta   
and onto the waters of the western Sea.  
  
"Whoa," was all Buffy could say when she saw the sun setting away in the west that evening.  
Xander and Willow couldn't even manage that much, and instead stared in awe. They'd all seen the  
sun set over the Pacific plenty of times, of course, but this was different in a way none of them  
would ever really manage to describe.   
  
For her part, Ára took one look at the western sun, held her hand against her heart, and began  
mumbling something in Elvish. Giles was also mumbling, but his face was green and he quickly  
retreated below decks, thankfully unnoticed by any of the others.  
  
For several days thereafter, the sheer novelty of an ocean voyage, even one that clung closely to the  
coasts, kept their spirits high. But day after day of the same routine - stay out of the way of the crew  
- wore away at them. Eventually, even Willow, who took to the sea air with the most enthusiasm,  
squirreled herself away in the cabin she shared with Buffy and Ára most of the time.  
  
Finally, perhaps a fortnight after they'd left the Anduin behind, Buffy cornered the captain, a native  
of the same coastal province that Ára hailed from.  
  
"Excuse me - " she began, but he started bellowing orders and she stopped, nonplussed. Then,  
louder, "EXCUSE ME!"  
  
"I'm not deaf, young lady, just busy," the captain growled without so much as a glance in her  
direction.   
  
Buffy winced a little, but didn't let that stop her. "I was just wondering - how far are we from the  
Grey Havens?" she asked him.  
  
At that, he did turn, but only shrugged and gazed northward. "Can't say for sure just how far. Last  
time I was this far north o' Gondor, I was half your age. But I seem to remember it being at least a  
two week's journey." The captain shrugged again. "Might be shorter. We've got a strong wind with  
us, have since the minute we passed the first watchtower on the coast."  
  
"Two weeks?" Buffy repeated. [Another week, then, maybe,] she thought, pessimistically adding a  
few days to the total. It was getting closer to autumn, but that would be enough... she hoped.   
"Thanks," she said to the captain, who grunted in reply, and retreated back below decks to share the  
news.  
  
As could be expected, it wasn't taken well by any of them. Shipboard life was far worse than life on  
the road, and even the promise of returning home in the end wasn't enough to ease the daily miseries.  
  
Finally, when tempers had begun to snap to the point where all five of the passengers were avoiding  
each other and the crew as best they could, a bright dawn saw them round a sandy cape and turn  
sharply to the east. The wind increased in strength, sweeping them up the great gulf. Soon, the sea  
vanished and they were enclosed in green again - the distant arms of the gulf - and a thick grey mist  
that rolled in from the shore as soon as they took the eastward turn.  
  
Early the next day, the lookout cried out and all of them rushed to the bow. Ahead, through the mist,  
they could see faint dark shapes jutting up on the greenish-grey haze that was the southern shore   
(the north was lost in the fog). For a moment, the wind died down and the ship was dead in the  
water, then, all at once, the mist melted away and the wind picked up again, driving them the last  
little distance to what was now clearly a coastal village.  
  
"Mithlond," Giles murmured reverently, then shrugged when they all stared at him. "Well, I just  
wanted to be sure you knew," he muttered.  
  
"Ahoy!" came the cry from the lookout. Dark shapes were coming through the mist - ships, Elven  
ships with white hulls and sails that bore the mark of the sun and moon upon them.   
  
The crew - few of whom had ever seen an Elf before - began to murmur amongst themselves, at least  
until the captain shouted them down.  
  
"Quiet, you wretches, and mind you don't drift us into yon swanboats!" he bellowed, which had the  
desired effect.  
  
All watched in silence as the Elf ships silently drew closer.  
  
"Now what?" Buffy asked when the Elves were perhaps twenty yards distant.  
  
Before any of her friends could make a suggestion, one of the Elves raised a cry of his own.  
  
"Master Giles! Lady Buffy! Come ashore!"  
  
"I think we should go ashore," Xander declared after a second or two.  
  
-  
  
The village - town, really - of the Elves was like neither Rivendell nor Lothlorien, save for the  
feeling of immense age and power hidden everywhere.   
  
Buffy, at least, found it the saddest of the three Elf settlements she'd visited in Middle-earth.   
Rivendell was quiet, but thriving in its own way, and Lothlorien was - well, beyond description.   
The   
Grey Havens, though, reminded her of a nursing home more than anything else, crude as the  
comparison was. A place where people went before passing on.  
  
That, at least, was her first impression. But it soon faded, as she saw the Elves there more closely.   
They were sad, and they were leaving, but they were not dying. The very idea of death seemed  
remote, in fact, as one breathed in the salty sea air and the thousand strange scents of the shipyards.  
  
"Círdan awaits you," their Elvish guide said, pointing at the mostly-finished ship before them. It  
was the largest one in the yards, easily as big as the one they'd sailed from Minas Tirith, and   
currently being worked upon by a half dozen or so Elves.  
  
Giles frowned. "Pardon me, which one is - " he began to ask, then fell silent. The question was  
pointless, for at that moment, a tall Elf came around the prow of the ship and approached them.   
Unlike every other Elf they had ever met, this one bore a long white beard, much like Gandalf's, and  
his face was lined with age.  
  
"Lord Círdan," Giles said, bowing instinctively, as did all the others, even Willow.  
  
The ancient Elf smiled and gestured for them to rise. "Thou art too exalted in the eyes of the West,  
and hath not need to bow," he said, speaking in a strange, archaic manner. "Come. I would show  
thee that which thou seeketh." He brushed his dusty hands on his robes, which were coated with  
sawdust, and then turned and began to lead them away from the shipyards and the river entirely.  
  
A short walk later, they came to the largest building in the Grey Havens - a tall white tower, so high  
they all wondered how they had missed it while sailing up the river.  
  
Silently, Círdan unlocked the single grey door at the base of the tower and then vanished inside.   
  
Buffy glanced at the others, then followed, the rest close behind.  
  
The inside of the tower was dark and dusty, and smelled like old books. Aside from the sunlight  
streaming in through the odd window, there was very little light at all, just dark shapes and strange  
shadows.  
  
Círdan stopped at another doorway, also locked, and then began to descend a narrow stairway.   
Down and down it went, hundreds of feet it seemed. Finally, though, they reached the bottom. The  
narrow tunnel that held the staircase ended and a vast open space lay before them.  
  
In the center of the great cavern was a large, cube-shaped assembly of silver and brass tubes. Fixed  
to the side of the giant cube were all manner of tiny wheels, bars and unidentifiable devices of  
crystal and steel. All of them were still, but upon close inspection, the entire assembly seemed to be  
interconnected. From the back of the strange machine, two slender cables - silver and brass  
entwined, in each case - ran out until they joined a massive circular doorway carved, it seemed,  
entirely out of crystal.  
  
The two cables framed the doorway and wound around it, as well as the small silver spikes that  
jutted from it at even intervals. The spikes each had a tiny crystal at their sharp tips, and the crystals  
had a faint blue glow to them.  
  
"Whoa," Xander said, breaking the awed silence. "What is it?"  
  
"The way home, Xander," Giles replied, somewhat impatiently.  
  
Xander shook his head, equally impatiently. "No, no, I got that. I mean, *what* is it?" he asked,  
turning to Círdan for an answer.  
  
It was Buffy who replied, though. "It's the time machine... the one Sauron had," she said, staring at  
it in both awe and dread. "But not... uh... evil looking."  
  
"The Elves made Sauron's time machine?" Willow asked, getting an angry look from Ára, who  
couldn't even conceive of such a thing.  
  
"Nay... as he did with much that was fair, Sauron took that which was the fairest and greatest work  
of old, and twisted it to his own ends," the ancient Elf explained, age-old anger blazing in his eyes.   
"'Twas Feanor who designed the gate, and his sons who wrought it, seeking perhaps..." He stopped  
and shook his head. "I cannot say what lead them to make this wonder."  
  
"So... how does it work?" Willow asked. She stared intently at the strange construction, as if she  
could decipher it in a few seconds. She could sense Power, though, and it almost seemed to be  
singing to her.  
  
"None liveth yet who could say. But..." Círdan gazed intently at the great doorway and then smiled.   
"The moment is coming," he added, apparently seeing something in the shadows that none of the  
others could.  
  
The meaning was clear enough, though. Giles sighed and turned to his friends. Círdan withdrew,  
after a hushed "Good bye", leaving the four of them, and Ára, alone in the glow of the ancient  
device.  
  
"Well... This is the end, isn't it?" Buffy asked after a minute or two. She glanced over to Ára who  
nodded slightly. She recalled the conversation they'd had about Giles and his decision to remain  
behind.  
  
"Not the end, Buffy. The beginning." Giles smiled and shook his head. "Besides, it's not  
forever," he said, knowing it was cold comfort. He glanced at Xander, smiled inwardly when he saw  
how close he was to Buffy, supporting her with his presence. "We will meet again, Buffy."  
  
"Beyond the Sea, right?" Buffy asked uncomfortably, even as a faint ripple, like hot air over  
pavement, appeared in the dead center of the gateway.  
  
"Something like that." In an unusual move for Giles, he held open his arms to her.   
  
Buffy nodded then hugged Giles, tears streaming freely down her face. Now that it came down to it,  
she didn't know what to say, didn't feel like there was anything to say at all. At last, she let him go  
and stepped back to watch Willow do the very same thing.  
  
"I hate doing this all over again," Willow murmured as she held tightly to him. She looked up at  
him as she stepped away. "I only hope this is the last time." She opened her mouth to explain what  
she meant but Giles only laughed lightly and held up his hand to her. Blushing wildly, she managed  
a small smile through her tears.   
  
"I'm certainly going to miss that about you, Willow," he told her.  
  
"Giles," Xander said as he stepped forward. He merely shook Giles' hand, and both glanced at  
Buffy for a second. Xander nodded. "Don't worry," he assured the old Watcher. "We'll take good  
care of her. Won't we, Wills?"  
  
Willow nodded then smiled over at her best friend. "We'll keep her out of trouble." A pause.   
"Well, as much of it as we possibly can."   
  
The ripple effect was intense now, and nothing could be seen through the gateway - and then, faintly,  
a familiar street, dimly lit by the rising sun. With each passing second, the scene on the other side  
became clearer and clearer, until -   
  
"It's time," Giles forced himself to say.  
  
"Giles, I - " Buffy started to say, her voice trailing off. "Thank you." She gave him one last smile,  
then turned and, still crying, stepped through the portal, Xander right at her side.  
  
Willow followed, but hesitated right at the threshold. She looked back at Giles -   
  
"Go, Willow," he told her. "They'll need you."   
  
Head bowed, Willow waved slowly, then turned back and stepped through.  
  
********  
  
Once the three of them were safely on the other side, the portal snapped shut behind them. Buffy  
sighed heavily then looked to both of her friends. They were in one piece and with her. They were  
back in 1999 and on the lawn in front of her house. Her house. Her eyes narrowed when she looked  
at the front door. It was broken apart. A large board had been propped up in front of the doorway.   
The porchlight was on as well as most of the other lights in the house.  
  
"You guys ..." Buffy gestured to the house. "Do you think we're -"  
  
Xander and Willow glanced at each other then looked to Buffy. "Right back where we started  
from?" Xander offered.  
  
"Unless your door's been broken down again," Willow put in. She shrugged. "But I don't see how  
that's likely."  
  
A panic rushed through Buffy. "Mom," she breathed. She bolted for the house. "Mom!" she cried  
out, shoving the piece of wood out of her way. She skidded to a halt at the foot of her stairs and  
glanced around. Everything the Orcs had broken during their search had been cleaned up.   
"Mom?"  
  
Xander and Willow entered the house behind her.   
  
"Is she here?" Willow asked.  
  
Buffy shrugged. "She's not answering me."  
  
"Mrs. Summers?" Xander called. He looked to the girls. "I'll check upstairs. Buffy, you try the  
living room and Willow, you try the kitchen."   
  
Without any arguments, the three of them split up.  
  
Buffy entered the living room. "Mom?" she asked. She crossed the room, looking in the corners not  
easily visible from anywhere in the room. About to go into the kitchen to help Willow, Buffy  
stopped. She heard a soft moaning from one of the armchairs and she turned. Just as she did, the  
throw blanket tumbled to the floor to reveal Joyce Summers, still in her pajamas with a small gauze  
bandage on her neck, stirring. "MOM!"  
  
Joyce jerked awake. She opened her eyes then stared at the girl in front of her, dressed so very  
strangely. "Buffy?" She sounded unsure of herself. This didn't resemble her daughter. Not much.   
This was somebody who'd been through even more than her daughter. Then tears welled up in her  
eyes. "Buffy ... is that really you?"  
  
"Yes! Mom!" She rushed forward and enveloped her mother in a hug. She held tightly but not so  
tight as to hurt her. "Oh my God. I'm so happy to see you. It's been forever! I'm happy to be  
home." Tears of her own spilled down her cheeks. "I love you, Mom. I don't tell you that enough.   
I really don't."  
  
Joyce was warmed and relieved by the words. She was overjoyed that her child was home and in  
one piece. "Buffy ... you talk like you've been gone for months!" She shook her head and hugged  
her closer. "I don't care. You're here now. You're alive and you're here." Sighing, she relaxed  
and enjoyed having Buffy back.  
  
Willow and Xander entered the room, instantly smiling when they saw the happy reunion on the  
armchair. Buffy sitting in Mrs. Summers' lap like a four year old would.   
  
"Oh. Xander! Willow!" Joyce said when she noticed them in the living room. She let go of Buffy  
and the Slayer wiped away her tears as she looked back to her friends. "What are the two of you  
doing here at this hour?"  
  
"It's a long story, Mrs. Summers," Willow replied. She glanced from Buffy to Xander. "A long  
story, indeed."  
  
-  
  
Once Joyce had provided a breakfast for the three teenagers, Willow and Xander decided to head  
back to their own homes.   
  
"Thanks again, Mrs. Summers," Xander said as he and Willow stopped by what was left of the front  
door. The morning sunlight was pouring through the front windows and the doorway. Cars drove  
by periodically. All the sounds of a time they had spent so long away from were welcome. "You  
really didn't have to do that for us, but I appreciate it."  
  
"It's no trouble. I just expect to hear the whole story about ... this - " she gestured to the three of  
them, still dressed in their clothes from Middle-earth. " - someday. All right?"  
  
"Certainly," Willow answered with a firm nod.  
  
Smiling, Joyce brushed a hand through Buffy's hair before she ambled up the stairs.  
  
"I can't believe it. They sent us back to roughly the same time we left," Willow whispered once  
Joyce was gone. She shook her head, amazed. "It's almost like we never left. Again."  
  
"Almost," Buffy said. The light in her eyes dimmed a bit. She didn't need to say what it was that  
bothered her. Xander and Willow gave her sympathetic looks but didn't say anything. "I ... I guess  
we should get some sleep. Who knows what demons and monsters will be waiting for us tonight?"   
She folded her arms across her chest.   
  
"I'm looking forward to sleeping in a nice, soft bed," Xander sighed, almost dreamily. "Soft bed,  
soft pillows and ... " He shook his head. "It's good to be back in our own time. So good." He and  
Buffy stared at each other for a few moments before each of them looked away.  
  
Willow cleared her throat, not missing the awkward little exchange. "I'll ... I'll just wait outside,  
okay, Xander? We can walk home together." She gave Buffy a quick hug. "I'll call you later on,  
all right? We can start figuring out new patrol strategies." With that, she nudged Xander before she  
headed out of the doorway to wait on the front lawn.  
  
Buffy licked her lips, nervously, then let her arms fall to her sides. "Hey ... uh ... in all the  
excitement of Sauron's defeat and us trying to get home ... I never really thanked you for what you  
did. Coming after me. Braving Hell and Mordor to help me." Her expression became softer. "I  
can't believe how lucky I am to have you, Xander."  
  
He shrugged, trying to play cool. "Well, anyone would've done it," he said. "And, Willow came  
too, you know." He jerked a thumb behind him, indicating her. "It was really a group effort, Buffy.   
Elves and humans and me and -"  
  
His words were cut off by Buffy placing a kiss on his lips. After a few moments, she pulled away  
and smiled up at him. He blinked a few times, wondering if that was his imagination or reality.   
Had Buffy Summers just kissed him?   
  
"Not anyone, Xander," she assured him. "Thank you."  
  
Smiling widely, he chuckled and began to back away. "Well, it wasn't a problem. No problem at -"   
He bumped into the doorway then stumbled onto the porch. Quickly, he tried to compose himself as  
Buffy covered up a smile with her hand as he did so. "Anyway ... " he said as he put on a suave  
exterior. "The next time you want to get out of a date, Buffy, just say you're washing your hair,  
okay? I don't want this to become a weekly occurrence."  
  
"Why would I want to get out of it?" she asked. When he just stared back at her, she waved a little.   
"Good bye, Xander. I'll see you later."  
  
"Yeah. Uh ... bye, Buffy." He smiled broadly as he turned around. He nearly tripped on the steps  
of her front porch, stumbling forward. He managed to catch himself before he fell. "It's okay!" he  
exclaimed, holding up both of his hands. "I'm allll right!"  
  
"Come on, Mr. Suave," Willow said as she clamped a hand on his arm, trying not to laugh out loud.  
  
Buffy turned around and leaned against the wall with a sigh. Her smile faded away as she thought  
about Giles. Things at home might've been well but she couldn't help worrying for him so far in the  
past. As she thought about him, she felt what Ára had spoken of. That Giles had a great purpose to  
fulfill in the past. Something that would be very important to the future. Very important indeed.  
  
*****************  
  
"Your Highness," Giles greeted as he bowed before Aragorn who sat regally upon his throne. "I am  
so very pleased that you agreed to see me. I know how busy you must be." He returned to his full  
height, eyes meeting the King's. "Reforming a kingdom isn't easy work."  
  
"No, it is not, Master Giles, but the message you sent ahead intrigued me," Aragorn replied. He  
gestured for Giles to come closer. "What is this organization that you propose to create? I have  
forgotten the name, please excuse me."   
  
"The Watchers Council, Your Highness," Giles replied. He held out a scroll, neatly bound with  
ribbon towards the new King. "To help battle the evils that remain in this realm, and to train those  
who would fight against them." He made a sweeping gesture to Ára who stood proudly, yet not too  
proudly, behind him. "The Slayer."  
  
Aragorn nodded as he accepted the scroll. "The Watchers Council," he murmured as he unraveled  
the paper.  
  
A smile crept to Giles's face when he saw the expression on the King's. "Yes, Your Highness. The  
Watchers Council."  
  
THE END. 


End file.
